


One Time Thing

by featherxquill



Category: Scott & Bailey
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Comfort Sex, Cunnilingus, Dirty Dancing, Divorce, F/F, Femslash, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Hair Brushing, Living Together, POV Lesbian Character, Sex Toys, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 50,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherxquill/pseuds/featherxquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There have been many times over the years that Gill and Julie have told each other 'just this once'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aubry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aubry/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Aubry! May this keep you entertained for many weeks. My thanks to alwayssomethingelse and girlonabridge for beta and suggestions, and to neeleys for cheering me along! :)

**i.**

After Janet's speech, Gill's retirement party _really_ gets started. Julie Dodson is still not entirely convinced that her friend is okay, but on this night, at least, she's determined to be happy for her. She's determined to have a good time, too, keep the pleasant buzz she's already got going. As soon as the speech is over, Julie uses her strategic position at the back of the crowd to move off quickly to the bar before everyone else has a chance to drift in its direction. It's one of the benefits of being tall, and it seems that Mitch and a few others have had the same idea. She's surprised, though, to find that Janet has beaten her there - the much smaller woman is already waiting with her forearms resting on the bar when Julie arrives and sidles up beside her to wait her turn.

"You must have moved like lightning," she says, to catch Janet's attention.

Janet turns her head to smile at Julie. "Funniest thing. The crowd just _parted_ for me. I suppose there are benefits to public speaking."

"Few as they are," Julie agrees, smiling back. "It was a great speech; thanks for giving it. God knows if I stood up in front of a bunch of cops, I'd probably just start telling them what to do. You were perfect. Are. Don't know what Gill'd do without you." Julie closes her eyes for a moment after her mouth stops. God, she must have more of a buzz on than she thought, if she's already sliding into indiscriminate affection. When she opens her eyes again, she finds Janet peering at her with an expression of benign amusement.

"Don't think Gill would have let you give the speech," Janet replies after a moment. "You _know_ far too much."

Julie laughs. "Don't know about that," she says. "You know as much as I do."

"Really," Janet says, voice musical, eyes too knowing by half. " _Doesn't have to be male_ is news to me."

Julie feels her face heat up, knows she's turning pink. "I probably shouldn't have said that," she mutters, and has to look away from Janet a moment later, lest all her secrets be laid bare under that gaze. Truth be told, Julie's always been a little bit afraid of Janet's perceptiveness, which is probably why her relationship with Janet, despite their both being close to Gill, has always remained quite firmly in the 'friends of friends' category.

"What can I get you, ladies?" The cheerful voice of the barman interrupts Julie's line of thought and rescues her from any awkward questions Janet might have been inclined to ask. Julie motions toward Janet, who was, after all, there first, and waits while she orders a glass of wine.

"A pint of the house ale for me," she says when her turn comes, then glances at Janet. "And maybe something stronger. D'you fancy a shot?"

Janet hesitates, looks ready to decline, but then seems to change her mind. "Oh, go on then. What of?"

"Something sweet," Julie answers, half to Janet and half to the barman. "Like youthful indiscretions." And that's the closest thing to an admission Janet's going to get out of her.

She sees Janet smile as the barman plucks a bottle of chambord off the high shelf. "Jam donut?" he asks. "Doesn't get much sweeter than that."

"Two," Julie agrees, and they wait while he rims the glasses in sugar and pours a generous helping of the liqueur into both, then tops the shots off with Baileys.

"To youthful indiscretions," he says as he slides them across the bar. Julie pays, and she and Janet pick up their glasses.

"Cheers," Julie says, lifting hers.

Janet taps her glass against Julie's, but speaks before she downs it, looking Julie dead in the eyes. "Whatever you should or shouldn't have said, Gill didn't seem to mind, did she?" With that, she tips her head back and swallows the shot. Julie, momentarily discomfited, hurries to do the same. The alcohol is sweet in her mouth and hot down her throat, and her head spins for a moment when she rights it.

Janet is setting her shot glass down on the bar and picking up her wine. "Thanks for the drink," she murmurs, and slips off into the crowd with a cryptic smile.

The taste of sugar and raspberry lingers on Julie's tongue, and she remembers that youthful indiscretion.

~*~

It happened by accident. It was 1984, about a year after Julie's mother died - cancer, slow and lingering and painful, with plenty of time for confessions but no moment that felt right - nine months since Julie decided that the rest of the world and the people she loved should know the real her. She cut her hair off and stopped wearing makeup, bought a pair of Docs and came thudding out of the closet, daring anyone to stop taking her seriously.

They were still in uniform, she and Gill, but they'd become friends within days of meeting on the job, and Julie's revelation didn't alter that one bit. Indeed, Gill's response went from casual indifference to a rather frank curiosity, probably once she realised that Julie was perfectly comfortable speaking candidly to friends.

"So, those clubs down on Canal Street," Gill asked one day, over lunch in the station's canteen, "do you ever go to those, or are they mainly for men?"

"Sometimes," Julie answered, after she'd finished chewing her bite of sandwich. "Well, not usually Canal Street, because they are mostly men, but there are others around. Depends if I've got someone to go with." Julie preferred going dancing with a date to picking up at a club, usually.

Gill smiled at her. "We should go. You should take me." There was a twinkle in her eyes, cheeky and flirtatious.

Julie took a sip from her cup of tea to distract herself from the sudden frantic beating of her heart. Was this...? She and Gill were friends, nothing more, but Julie had been nursing a fairly raging 'attracted to the straight girl' _thing_ for Gill almost since the day they'd met. It wasn't something she'd expected anything out of, really, but now... Was this just Gill's continuing curiosity about Julie's lifestyle, or was she asking Julie to take her on a date? Was her curiosity perhaps less innocent than Julie had assumed?

Julie didn't want to ask. Didn't want the invitation to be retracted if she was wrong, didn't want to pin Gill down if she wasn't. She took another bite of her sandwich, affecting an ease she didn't feel, chewed and swallowed before she responded. "All right. How's Saturday?"

She was no more certain when Saturday came. When Julie arrived at Gill's place that evening, she half-expected to find Gill looking hopelessly straight, but when she answered the door it was in a pair of tight leather pants and a white off-the-shoulder top, through which her black bra was visible. When she turned to let Julie in while she fetched her bag, Julie found it was all she could do to to step inside the door and breathe, torn as she was between staring at the way the leather cupped Gill's firm backside and the way her long hair - teased at the roots then braided into a tail accented with a glittering, bright pink streak - swung at her back.

The club Julie took Gill to was one that you had to knock on the door of to be let in. There were others in the area that were less cloak-and-dagger, but none of them were illegal, and for her first night out at a gay club, Julie thought Gill might appreciate the illicit theatricality of it all. She seemed to, eyes wide as they made their way in. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and throbbing to the beat of Madonna, and the dance floor was a press of bodies, boys grinding on each other and ladies with their hands one another's hips, and Julie elbowed Gill in the ribs and leaned in close. "Let's get a drink," she said, pitching her voice to the 'club whisper' - anywhere else a shout. "You look like a tourist!"

Gill's eyes snapped to her, a guilty look on her face, but Julie just smiled, moving off through the crowd with her hand outstretched so Gill wouldn't lose her as they made their way to the bar. They clustered into the messy queue, right beside a drag queen who towered over even Julie, and Julie leaned in close to Gill again. "Rule number one of a place like this," she said: "try not to stare."

Gill smiled up at Julie, the curl of her lips more playful than it had any right to be. "I'll just look at you, then, will I?"

"Not what I meant!" Julie replied, but she could feel the big dumb grin on her face, and Gill was watching every twitch of it.

Drinks. They needed drinks, got them - two apiece because of the line. Downed the first quickly then found a corner and took a little longer with their second, smoking and doing a bit of discreet people watching. Gill took it all in with a smile and wide, curious eyes, and Julie found herself watching Gill, trying to decide if it was the curiosity of a straight woman, or the kind of eye-opening that happened when you finally discovered something you'd been looking for all your life. She couldn't figure it out, and they weren't yet drunk enough for Julie to ask.

To that end, they returned to the bar as soon as they'd finished their second drinks, this time downing shots before they joined the crowd on the dance floor. They started off dancing together, just the two of them, but before long they were welcomed into a group, making instant, transient friends when Gill's shoulder bumped into a bloke and he turned, pulling her against him for a few moments before his boyfriend did the same to him. The lad leaned down to whisper/shout something in Gill's ear, and then Gill was tugging Julie by the hand into their circle of friends.

The night progressed like that, with Julie losing track of how many drinks they'd had, dancing and smoking and laughing with their new friends. "This is great," Gill said on one of their jaunts to the bar. "I feel so safe here!"

And she was, surrounded by gay men who might dance up close but only had eyes for each other. A few women sidled up to her on the floor, and she danced with them for a time but pulled away as soon as things got heated, and that was accepted, too.

"Is she straight, then?" One of the lads they'd met shouted in Julie's ear, after the third friendly rebuffed advance. "Or is she yours?"

"Fucked if I know!" Julie called in response, with a helpless grin, and the bloke laughed.

But as the night wore on, the dancing got closer. The boys started to pair off, disappearing into dark corners, and Gill and Julie ended up dancing as a duo again. Drinks downed, they found themselves beside two lesbians who couldn't have been less aware of their presence, grinding against each other and thoroughly lost in movement. 

Gill reached up to grab Julie's shoulder, tugging her down so she could talk. "You haven't shown me _that_ ," she shouted, voice a drunken mixture of long vowels and enthusiasm. "Haven't shown me how _you_ dance."

Julie caught Gill by the waist, because she'd gone up on tiptoes and was in danger of stumbling. She hardly felt steadier herself, brain buzzing with booze and and energy. She kept a hold of Gill's waist, leaned in close to answer her. "Because I don't know what you want from tonight. What are you looking for?"

Gill smiled, squeezed Julie's shoulder. "Want to have a good time. Want to have the _best_ time. Show me."

Julie felt herself smirk. Somewhere, she was dimly aware that Gill's answer was not _quite_ what she was hoping for, but she felt drunk and wild, nerves all afire, and here she was with her very attractive friend in her arms, being asked to show her a good time. Julie could do that. She could _definitely_ do that.

She slid the hand that had caught Gill's waist down, brought her other up and curled them both around Gill's hips, then tugged her close, pelvis to pelvis. Smiling, she held tight to Gill and gyrated in time with the music. Gill's leather was hot under her hands, a literal second skin. They moved like that for a time, Gill finding her rhythm and arching into Julie, letting her other hand come up to Julie's shoulder too, using that grip as leverage to slide herself down Julie's body, back up again. Julie felt more than heard herself growl, skin taut and vibrating. She pulled back and spun Gill around, just as quickly curling her arm around Gill's waist again and tugging her in so that Julie's whole body was pressed against her back. Julie got a thumb under the waistband of those pants, used the grip to pull Gill's arse against her and grind to exactly the rhythm she wanted. Her other hand found Gill's thigh, and Gill reached back to find one of hers, and Julie let her eyes close and her head fall back as they moved.

 _Fuck_ , Gill was really into this. Good at it, too. She spun in Julie's arms, turning back to face her again, and her eyes were alight, mouth a wild smile. Julie sucked humid air into her lungs, pulled Gill close again, but this time, instead of pelvis to pelvis, she deployed the true Lesbian Move, slipped her leg between Gill's and pulled Gill against her thigh. Gill looked up at her, eyes widening, but Julie just smiled, quirked an eyebrow, flattening her hand against the small of Gill's back and pressing her thigh into Gill's crotch. She loosened her hold for a moment, enough to let Gill pull away if she wanted to, but Gill arched an eyebrow right back, curling her own hand around Julie's hip and tugging her in tight.

Jesus, it was hot in here, hot between them. The music pounded through them, driving them against each other, frenetic. Julie watched Gill's face as Gill rode her leg, watched Gill's eyes close and her throat pulse as the strobing light caught on glitter that had come loose from her hair. Gill's hand gripped Julie's belt and held her, close enough that she felt plenty of friction herself, pressed up against Gill's writhing hip. They swayed, gyrated, missing some of the beats of the music but finding a rhythm all their own. Gill's throat arched in abandon, the flimsy fabric of her top clung to her, sweat-damp, and against it all that growing friction, the heat of Gill's body rubbing against Julie's and the way that made her cunt tingle and ache.

"Fucking hell," Julie said, head spinning, wanting to give voice to her desire and knowing the music was loud enough to drown her out. "You're fucking beautiful. I want to rip your clothes off."

Or so she thought. In the next moment, Gill's eyes were open again, and they were dark with arousal. She reached up with the hand not tangled in Julie's belt and caught her around the back of the neck, tugging her down, and then their lips were crashing against each other, a kiss every bit as wild as the dancing.

Julie's head was spinning even more as they parted, blood beating hot. Gill kept hold of her, shifted her mouth so it was by Julie's ear. "Take me home," she demanded. Julie didn't need to be asked twice.

*

They barely made it out of the taxi before they were snogging again, half in a hedge in Julie's driveway with her fingers tangled around Gill's braid. Gill's hand was inside Julie's jacket, fisted in the fabric of her top, pulling Julie against her with all the strength she had.

"Inside," Julie hissed, when they broke apart. "It's the third door on the right. Can't make too much noise going in, okay. Mary's got exams next week." Mary was Julie's flatmate, studying medicine. Wanted to be a forensic pathologist.

Julie caught Gill's hand and tugged her down the drive. She got the door open and ushered Gill inside, closed it and promptly dropped her keys. They clattered noisily to the floor and Julie hissed " _Shit_." Gill giggled, holding herself upright against the wall, and Julie looked at her, hip cocked, loose strands of hair floating around her face where Julie's fingers had tugged them loose. She toed the keyring out of the way and caught Gill around the waist, tugging her close for another kiss that ended with Gill pressed up against the wall. Julie's fingers found their way under Gill's top and onto her skin, and she felt Gill's abdomen quiver under her touch.

Julie jerked her head to the side. "My room's just down here," she murmured, but Gill stopped her before she could move.

"Slap," she whispered, voice urgent, and Julie stopped, looking down at her, chest heaving but eyes suddenly earnest. "I've never... I want you to know. I've never been with a woman before."

Julie smiled and the expression felt crooked on her face. "It's okay." She kissed Gill again. "You do want to, don't you? We don't have to." God, it would be torture, having Gill in her room when she was so on fire, but even drunk and horny, Julie didn't want Gill thinking she _owed_ Julie anything.

"I want to," Gill breathed, wrapping her fingers around Julie's belt. "Please, get me in there." Julie tugged Gill away from the wall.

Julie's bedroom wasn't as much of a mess as it could have been. Her underwear drawer was hanging open and there were a few tops discarded on the floor, but she'd made her bed that morning, thank god, and there was only one half-drunk mug of tea on the dresser. She wasn't too ashamed as she led Gill inside.

They didn't fall immediately onto the bed. Julie shrugged her jacket off and tossed it over the open drawer, bent down to tug at her shoelaces and kick her boots off, then turned to face Gill, who was leaning against the doorframe, watching her. She'd discarded her pumps just inside the door.

"You're not as much of a grub as I thought you'd be, Slap," she said. "Congratulations."

"You caught me on a good day," Julie replied, smiling. "Cm'ere."

Gill did, closing the distance between them until it was non-existent, until their arms were tangled around each other again, mouths hot against one another's, and Julie couldn't believe this was really happening, this thing she'd imagined a dozen times but not dared to hope for.

"I can't believe you heard me," Julie muttered, when they broke for air, as her fingers found the hem of Gill's top and tugged it off over her head. "Can't believe you heard anything over that music."

"Heard what?" Gill asked, reappearing from behind the fabric.

"Heard..." Julie started, then laughed. "Oh god. You didn't." Which meant that look, that kiss, it had all been Gill's doing. No prompting at all. Jesus. Shit. Her hand found Gill's waist again and she felt her fingers tremble.

"Heard what?" Gill asked again, smiling.

"I said," Julie murmured, feeling her cheeks turn pink even as she backed Gill toward the bed, as she lowered her head to press a kiss against the base of her throat, "that you were fucking beautiful, and that I wanted to rip your clothes off."

Gill made a guttural sound as the backs of her knees hit the bed and she dropped onto it, catching Julie's arm so she didn't sprawl. "Sounds good to me," she said, smiling up at Julie. "As long as you take yours off too."

"Gladly." To demonstrate, Julie wrapped her arms around her middle and yanked her top off without a moment's hesitation.

Gill scrambled back up the bed as Julie joined her there, crawling on and following until she had one knee either side of Gill's and her arms caging Gill's shoulders. Gill reached up and trailed her fingers over Julie's abdomen, looked up at her and wet her lips with her tongue. "What now?" she asked, and managed to make it sound like a challenge.

"Now," Julie said, a playful smile turning her mouth up as she rolled her hips against Gill's, "we pick up where we left off."

She dove in. Her lips found Gill's throat, collarbone, her hands slid over skin. At Gill's urging, she reached around her to unclip her bra, sliding the straps down over her shoulders and pressing open-mouthed kisses where they'd been. She ground her hips down against Gill's and felt Gill lifting her own in response, and when she'd tossed the bra off the bed she covered one of Gill's breasts with a hand and lowered her head to the other, tonguing the nipple and sucking it into her mouth. Gill made noises, strangled and decadent, and Julie gloried in them, wanting to give Gill that _good, best_ time she'd asked for ( _maybe if you do, she'll keep coming back for more_ ). Gill's own hands were reaching out, grasping and stroking where she could, but really Julie was more interested in making sure Gill felt good than in slaking her own need. This, all of this, was enough for her.

It took her a few moments to recognise that Gill's voice had gone from incoherent moans to whispering her name - or, well, calling her Slap - first breathlessly then more urgently, to draw her attention. She lifted her head to find Gill looking at her, smiling. Smiled right back.

"Slap, come up here," Gill said, and Julie did, shifting again so she was at eye level with Gill.

"Mm?" she asked, grinning.

Gill's hands snaked up to cup her face, slide back into her hair. She tugged Julie down for another kiss, then took a moment to focus again. "Slap, this is amazing. You're spoiling me. But I am _really_ light-headed, especially on my back. Do you think we could, maybe -" and here her lips twisted wryly "- get on with it? I'd like it if we could get off before we pass out."

Julie just looked at her for a moment, trying to decide whether to be offended or not, but then she laughed. "God, is this why they say don't sleep with your friends? Because they'll be absolutely honest? All right. Could be I was just avoiding those pants." She pressed another kiss against the corner of Gill's mouth, then shifted back.

"They're new," Gill said, as Julie worked the button and fly undone. "Don't you like them?" Her mouth made a pretty little pout.

"Oh, I like them," Julie said, getting her thumbs into the waistband. "Especially the way they cup your arse." She gave a tug. "But that, I suspect, is going to be the problem." The pants barely budged. "I mean, did you pour them on?"

Gill laughed. "I didn't think of that."

"Well think about it now, Sweaty in Leather," Julie said. "Better start wriggling." Gill did, and Julie tugged at the waistband, gripping it tight and working the pants down over Gill's arse when they started to move. It took some effort, and more because Gill kept laughing, but eventually Julie pulled them off over Gill's feet and waved them victoriously.

Gill collapsed against the covers for a moment, chest heaving. "Bloody hell," she sighed at the ceiling. "Remind me never to wear those again unless I'm with someone who's got a vested interest in getting them off me."

Julie didn't fail to notice the 'someone' instead of 'you', but she tried not to think about it, her denial made easier by Gill pushing herself up in the next moment and crawling over to her in nothing but her knickers.

"Hey you," she said, smiling and reaching for Julie's belt buckle. "I thought you were getting your kit off too."

"Yes, ma'am," Julie replied, grinning and telling herself, again, to take this for exactly what it was. Gill's delicate fingers worked her belt undone, and Julie reached behind herself to unclip her bra. She shed it over her shoulders, then climbed off the bed for a moment to rid herself of her jeans and knickers. When she crawled back on again, Gill was waiting for her, kneeling and watching her intently.

"I'm less light-headed now," she murmured, staring. Julie stifled a shiver brought on by the intensity of that gaze, had to remind herself to breathe as Gill reached out for her, hands sliding onto Julie's hips. Her fingers splayed out and she traced the lines of Julie's body with a sort of reverent curiosity, curling back around her arse, then feather-light over her sides and stomach and up to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over Julie's nipples and teasing them taut. Julie watched her, frozen in place as Gill explored, kneeling there with her arms by her sides and her skin ablaze.

"Bloody hell, Gill," Julie breathed, when she finally found her voice again. "Are you planning a sculpture?"

Gill's smile was cheeky. "Maybe. I could call it 'The Lesbian Victory of WPC Dodson'." Julie laughed, but in the next moment Gill looked earnest again. "I think I need you take over now, though, because I've no idea what happens next."

"I can do that," Julie whispered, and urged Gill back onto the bed again. When she'd settled, Julie reached for the waistband of her knickers, waiting for Gill to lift her hips before she tugged them off. She dropped them over the side of the bed and caught Gill's ankles, sliding her hands up over calves to grip Gill's bent knees, tugging them apart a little and trailing her fingers over the crease at the back. She looked at Gill over the top of them, enjoying the sight of her naked and sprawling. The only part of her that was still put together was the braid stretched out across the pillow, and even that was messy now. Julie felt a small pang of regret that she'd not pulled it out - she would have loved to tangle her fingers in Gill's hair, see it all spread out underneath her - but she suspected that would have been far more of an ordeal than getting the pants off, what with the teasing and that glittery pink thing.

"Now," she said,"do you want to know how it feels to have a woman go down on you?"

Julie was really only asking as a matter of form - a kind of foreplay, even. She expected an enthusiastic yes, but although Gill's hips writhed, she shook her head a moment later. "I'd feel bad. I think I'll fall asleep about thirty seconds after I come, tonight. Can we do something more mutual?"

Julie smiled. Her first instinct was to say it didn't matter, that she didn't care, but it obviously mattered to Gill, and however it was worded, a no was a no. She let go of Gill's legs and climbed her again, this time sliding one knee between hers. "All right," she whispered, capturing Gill's mouth again. "I'll take watching you come instead."

Julie's arm went about Gill's waist and she pulled Gill with her as she rolled onto her side, tangling their legs together and hitching Gill's up so it rested across her thigh. "How's this?" she asked, letting her fingers trail over Gill's breast and across her stomach, then down to tease against her inner thighs.

"Mm, good," Gill answered, smiling, letting her own hand find its way. "I want to touch you."

Gill's cunt was hot and slick under Julie's fingers, and she watched Gill's jaw loosen and her lips part as she stroked, spreading her wet. Julie's throat made a low rumbling groan when she felt Gill's fingers making a similar exploration, and Gill smiled, answering with her own.

" _God_ , yes," Gill whispered when Julie slipped a finger inside her, following it shortly with a second, and a moment later Gill's fingers followed suit. "It's the same but different, doing this to somebody else," she breathed.

"Oh, very descriptive," Julie murmured, smirking, but then Gill crooked her fingers and took the breath right out of her.

They lost their words in sighs, in action and feeling. Hips jerked and thighs strained open wider as their hands worked. Julie stretched her neck forward, mouthing inarticulately at Gill's skin wherever she could reach - jaw, throat, shoulder. She could feel her own heat building, ached for it, the release of a whole night's tension, but she wanted to _see_ Gill, fought off the fog and concentrated on her movements. She increased her pace and curled her hand up, grinding the heel of her palm into Gill and listening as her breath grew ragged. Gill's mouth was open, eyelids fluttering and face flushed red. The movement of her hand had become erratic, but she kept trying valiantly, so Julie searched for and found her voice.

"Let go," she whispered. "It's okay. Let me see you come." She curled her fingers for emphasis.

Gill's rhythm faltered as she gave herself away to feeling. Julie pushed her further, murmuring encouragement, and then she was there, cresting, clenching tight around Julie's fingers, thighs shaking. The lines of her throat went taut and her breath shuddered in through parted lips, eyelashes fluttering and looking blissful and lost.

Julie brought her back, waited until Gill's eyelids flickered open again before she stopped the movement of her hand. "You're gorgeous when you come," she said, slick fingers settling against Gill's thigh.

Gill's smile was long and lazy, but after a moment it dimmed. "You didn't," she whispered, her disappointment obvious.

Julie's shoulder twitched. "It's okay. I mean, if you're tired, it's not the most important thing in the world to me." She hoped that she and Gill had had enough conversations about the various shapes of lesbian desire that she knew Julie meant exactly what she said - she was neither trying to discourage Gill from touching her, nor would she be especially bothered if an orgasm didn't happen.

But Gill's sense of reciprocal fairness was a little too strong. "Well, I said we had thirty seconds," she murmured, smiling and giving herself a shake, "but I think I can manage a little longer than that. I am _not_ ," she urged Julie onto her back, rolled so she was on top of her, "going to to remember that I went to bed with a woman for the first time and then fell asleep before she got off."

Julie's head fell back against the pillow as she surrendered to Gill, and she let out a little breath of laughter. "Well, all right then. I'm at your mercy."

And oh, what a place to be. The image of Gill spread out on her bed was one Julie had imagined many times, but she'd never considered what it might be like to have Gill hovering over her. She was glorious, tiny and wicked, all collarbones and devious smile. Her hand slid over Julie's stomach and down to cup her mound, and she slipped two fingers into Julie again without preamble. Her movements were more confident now, steady and precise, and when she bent her head to close her mouth over Julie's nipple, Julie arched up off the bed, hand flailing up to curl around the headboard and give herself an anchor point, closing her eyes and finally, finally letting herself focus on sensation.

She could feel the tail of Gill's braid tickling her chest, could feel those demanding lips sucking on her breast. Gill's fingers, hot, pressed against her abdomen, holding her writhing body down. Julie dug her heels into the duvet, spreading herself wider, heard her voice urging Gill deeper, hissing approval. Her body sung with need, thrummed, and she begged for more. Gill's other hand slid down, thumb finding Julie's clit and rubbing circles, and Julie knew what Gill meant about being light-headed then, because she was spinning, arching her neck back against the pillow in a futile quest for clarity. It was gone, all of it, and Julie shook, gasping Gill's name as she came, begging incoherently.

It was quiet, after. Blood pounded in Julie's ears, and as it faded it left a profound silence. She opened heavily eyelids, found Gill looking at her. She was still wearing a smile but it was smaller than earlier, awed and proud, and Julie let go of the headboard and reached for her, tugging her down. Gill flopped beside her and Julie tossed a leg over her, a half-roll all she could manage. Her arm fell lazily across Gill's middle, and they just lay there for a while, recovering their minds and their breath.

Eventually, Gill spoke. "You're gorgeous when you come, too, you know." She said it quietly, like she'd been trying to think of her own description for a while but had been unable to come up with one, and Julie smiled.

"It's quite something, isn't it," she said, "watching a woman have an orgasm? Not that I've seen a bloke have one, but I'm told they make pretty stupid faces."

Gill chuckled. "Mm, they do." Silence fell again, for a few moments, and Gill's voice was even quieter when she spoke again. "We should get under the covers. It's been more than thirty seconds. I'm going to pass out soon."

"Mm," Julie agreed, feeling the night, the exertion and the alcohol dragging her toward sleep as well. She didn't move, though, tugged Gill closer, then reached back to grab the edge of the duvet and pull it around them like a cocoon.

"That's a fucking terrible idea," Gill said, even as she reached for the edge on her side and yanked it over to complete the nest. "We're going to wake up freezing."

"Probably," Julie agreed, but for the time being they were warm and sated and tangled up with each other, and neither of them lasted another minute.

*

Julie woke to the sound of her bedroom door closing and the clink of ceramic being set down on her bedside table. She groaned, cracking her eyes open and finding the duvet over her head. She was under the covers, but she couldn't for the life of her remember how she'd got beneath them. Flailing a hand up, Julie tugged the duvet down to find Gill standing beside the bed, wearing her dressing gown and looking tiny in it, having just set two steaming mugs on the stand.

"Morning," Gill said, voice soft. "Tea?"

Julie didn't know if she could speak yet, but she nodded weakly, pushing herself up to sit and gratefully reaching out for the mug when Gill handed it to her. She curled her fingers around it, let the steam waft over her face for a moment before she took a sip. Gill crawled back into the bed and picked her own mug up off the stand.

"You made," Julie started, but found her voice hadn't quite arrived yet. "I should've," she managed a moment later.

Gill laughed. "Don't be daft. We both know you're useless in the morning." Julie couldn't argue with that, literally couldn't. She took another sip of her tea instead, and Gill filled the silence. "I met Mary. She showed me where the tea things were. She's going to lend me some clothes, too, so I don't have to put those leather pants back on. Useful woman, your flatmate."

Julie smiled, nodded. Tea half gone, she felt her faculties returning. "We didn't wake her up last night, I hope."

"She didn't say, but she seemed chipper, so I can't imagine we kept her awake. We weren't _that_ noisy." Gill's smile was conspiratorial.

There was a tap on Julie's door, then the woman herself called out: "Are you two decent in there?"

Julie tugged the duvet up over her chest. "Come in!"

Mary poked her head round the door as if she was still worried she might see a stray nipple, then pushed it open fully once she established that they were, in fact, covered up.

"I see you roused the bear," she said to Gill, glancing in Julie's direction.

"Mm, just needed a little honey," Gill replied, smiling.

Mary had a bundle of clothes in her arms, set them down on the foot of Julie's bed. "There's jeans and a jumper," she said. "I hope they'll fit. Better than having to roll the hems up if you borrow this one's things, anyway." She glanced slyly at Julie again.

"Thanks," Gill and Julie said at once, and Mary laughed.

"No problem. Just give them back to Julie whenever. If I don't see you back here, that is." She made for the door with a twinkling smile. "Oh, and I put your keys in the kitchen, Jules, in case you're looking for them." With that, she departed, closing the door behind her.

Julie and Gill were silent for a few moments, and then Julie looked down at her teacup and said, "I think she heard us," and Gill burst out laughing. Julie was laughing too, then, right down to her belly, and it took both of them some time to recover.

The laughter faded to silence, and Julie drained her tea, then stared at the dregs in the cup for a while, turning them this way and that. This was more comfortable than some of the mornings after in Julie's history, but it was one all the same, and if she was honest, this one meant more than most.

Eventually, she spoke. "So, will I? See you here again?" Her chest felt tight all of a sudden. She glanced up at Gill, trying not to look too hopeful, but she must have failed, if the pained expression on Gill's face was any indication.

"Slap, I..." She looked down into her own mug, then back up at Julie again. Her eyes were sad. "I didn't realise that was what you wanted," she whispered.

The tightness dropped, became a heavy disappointed _thing_ in her stomach. She took a breath. "It's okay. Hoping's not expecting." She set the hand holding the mug down on her knee, sighed.

Gill reached out to touch her hand. "I'm sorry," she said, and Julie looked up at her again. "If I'd known you were hoping for more, I wouldn't have complicated things. I had a really good time," she offered a smile, "but I'm not... I don't think I could have a relationship with a woman, and I wouldn't want to pretend like I could and then let you down later."

Julie nodded. "I get it. You can't help who you are any more than I can."

Gill watched her, eyes large and earnest. "I didn't ruin our friendship, did I?"

Julie smiled, shook her head. "No. I had a good time, too, and I can take it as it was. Just..." And here she hesitated, torn between what she wanted and what she knew she needed to say.

"Mm?" Gill prompted, arching an eyebrow.

"We probably shouldn't let it happen again," Julie said. It felt rather like shooting herself in the foot, saying that, but she knew it was right. She could have a bit of fun, was happy to have been Gill's with-a-woman experience, but she wasn't prepared to be an ongoing experiment.

"Okay," Gill said, nodding. "Agreed."

Gill looked at Julie and Julie looked at her, and though the ache didn't quite go away, it felt okay. They'd make it through this.

"So," Julie said, when they'd let the moment pass, "do you want breakfast? I should probably make Mary something if she spent all night listening to me have sex. You up for some anatomically-correct-heart shaped pancakes? I'm pretty sure we've got a mould somewhere. She can study while she eats."

"All right, yeah," Gill said, laughing, and Julie knew they'd be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**ii.**

It's always odd, being a Superintendent at a party. Julie floats between tables, chatting to everyone and anyone - she knows all their faces, and she is generally good with names - but she never stays in one place too long. She's forever conscious of the fact that she's One of The Bosses, and she knows how she'd be if Karen Zalinski were here - never quite able to relax. So she moves around, sits with this group for twenty minutes and that one for thirty, and drifts back to the bar in between. 

She's almost finished having a pint with some of the lads from her old nick at Duke Street - who know Gill from her brief stint as a sergeant, before she was offered the crime faculty job - when a pair of hands slide around her head and cover her eyes. 

Recovering from the surprise, Julie barks a laugh. "That better not be you, Richardson. God knows where your hands have been."

The blokes at the table laugh, and one of them says: "Younger. _Much_ younger. Barely even a copper!" A sliver of light appears between two of the fingers as whoever's got their hands over Julie's eyes attempts to give the speaker a two-finger salute without taking them away. There's laughter at the table, and a few of them try to give her clues that she barely even hears over the mirth. Julie tries to work out which of her youngest subordinates has the balls to be so familiar, then one of the lads says, "Cor, but he doesn't half look like the both of 'em, does he?", and the penny drops. 

"Sammy?"

The hands drop away and Julie lets her head fall back, finds him grinning down at her. "Hiya," he says. 

"Hiya, kid." Julie smiles, twisting in her seat and rising to give him a hug. "Didn't know you were coming tonight!"

Sammy returns the hug and it's quick but fierce - it's been way too long since Julie last saw him, which was late on the night of his engagement party, after Julie finally, _finally_ got away from the grilling Karen Zalinski gave her and the incident reports she had to file. They hadn't talked long that night, either - Julie had been far too preoccupied with her need to see Gill. 

"We can't stay long," Sammy says as he pulls away. "We've just been at Orla's Mum's 50th, and I've got a mate who's having a 21st tonight, too, but we wanted to look in." He gestures across the room to where Orla is having an animated conversation with Gill. 

"You driving?" Julie asks, as she fishes her nearly empty pint off the table and drains it. 

"Nah," Sammy says, grinning. "It's Orla's turn. I had to carry her home last weekend."

"Well," she claps him on the shoulder, "you can buy me a drink, then. Cheers, lads." Julie salutes them with her empty glass. 

She doesn't, of course, actually make Sammy buy the drinks. By the time they make it to the bar, her money is already in her hand. "About time for another shot, I think," she says to him. "What do you reckon?"

"Tequila?" Sammy answers, looking hopeful, and Julie laughs. 

"Sounds good. With a beer chaser?" She arches a brow at him. 

"Have I ever told you I love you?" He bats his eyelashes at her. 

Julie elbows him. "Oh, give over, you daft twat." They fall in behind a few other people waiting for drinks.

"So, how was the 50th?" Julie asks. "You get on all right with your in-laws to be?"

"Yeah," Sammy nods, smiling. "Orla's mum is great, and I finally beat her step-dad at pool tonight, so hurray for that. They're good, yeah. Her dad's re-married too, so between the two of us that makes Christmas a bit hectic, and I don't know how it's going to go at the wedding - we'll have to figure something out unless we want a high table that stretches for miles, but yeah. They're cool."

"Glad to hear it," Julie says. "Good to know that Orla understands that family can be...complicated, too."

Sammy laughs. "Yeah, she does at that." He glances around. "What about here? Is it just the usual, any excuse for coppers to get pissed is a good one, or...?"

"Yeah, mostly," Julie says, as the people ahead of them receive their drinks and clear off, leaving Julie and Sammy to take their places at the bar. "Nothing dramatic or gossip-worthy just yet. Janet gave a nice speech, earlier. Pity you missed it."

Sammy laughs. "Oh, I got the highlights when I went to say hello to Mum. From, er, that one." He points to where Mary is laughing drunkenly with Lee Broadhurst. "Who's she, again?"

"Scary Mary Jackson," Julie says. She doesn't much like the nickname, mostly because it's usually used behind Mary's back, but on this occasion she deigns to use it, purely because 'Scary Mary' is infamous enough for Sammy to have heard of. 

It has the desired effect. Sammy's mouth drops open. "She's never!" he exclaims. "She grabbed my bum! Right after she finished telling me that Mum used to have hair down to there."

Julie throws her head back and laughs. "Daft bitch," she replies, once she's recovered. "Suppose it's been a while since she felt a warm one."

"I clenched it for her and all," Sammy says, a blush rising in his cheeks. 

"Well, you're in now. Your first autopsy will be a doddle. Mary never forgets anything." Julie laughs again. 

The barman reaches them and takes their order, and they watch as he prepares two shots of tequila and serves them with lemon wedges and a salt shaker, then picks up two pint glasses and heads for the taps. 

"Is it true?" Sammy asks, as he sprinkles salt between his forefinger and thumb and then passes the shaker to her. "Did Mum really have hair that long? I don't remember that."

"Well, you wouldn't," Julie says, licking her own hand before she sprinkles it with salt. "She cut it off when you were only a few months old - it was too much work, I think, with a new baby." Julie slips the lemon wedge between her fingers, carefully balancing the salt, then passes Sammy his. 

"Oh, well now I feel bad," he says, as they pick up their shot glasses. 

"Don't," Julie says, smiling. "I don't think she ever looked back." She lifts her glass. "Cheers."

"Cheers," Sammy grins, then, licking the salt off their hands, they tip their heads back and down their shots. It's burning and tart - revolting really, Julie's never much liked the taste of tequila - but the salt and the lemon make it bearable, and it leaves her with quite a pleasant buzz. 

They discard their lemon rinds and shot glasses, and Julie gives her head a shake. "God, that's so bad it's good," she says, and gratefully picks up her pint, which is now waiting. 

"Right?" Sammy agrees, grabbing his. "Hey, have you met Orla properly? Don't think I got the chance to introduce you at our engagement."

"I haven't," Julie says, "but your Mum's told me all about her."

"Good," Sammy says, "because I've told her all about my Cool Gay Auntie, too."

Julie laughs. "I hope I can live up to that," she says, and follows him through the crowd. As they move, though, Julie licks salt off her bottom lip and remembers a time when she had a mouth full of it, back when Gill still had hair down to her bum.

~*~

It was 1987, a few weeks since Gill had received her placement at Bolton CID, only six months behind Julie's placement at South Manchester. Two days earlier, she'd been on the phone to Julie, telling her about the fancy dinner reservations her boyfriend of two years, Jack, had made for their Friday night.

"He says he wants us to celebrate my promotion properly," Gill had said, voice breathier and more excited than any posh dinner had ever warranted. "Slap, I think he's going to propose."

Julie had made the appropriate encouraging noises, even though she didn't think much of marriage as an institution, personally. She knew that was what Gill wanted out of life - the whole package of career and husband and family - so she was genuinely happy for her that it looked like that was the way things were going. 

Only they weren't, it turned out. At ten o'clock on Friday night, Julie's doorbell rang. When she rose from the settee to answer it, she found Gill outside, all fancied up in a wine-red dress, hair curled and pinned back in a twist, a few artfully arranged ringlets falling around a face that was now streaked with tears. 

"He didn't propose," was the first thing she said. 

"Oh, love," Julie replied, but she didn't have the chance to get another word out, because Gill was flinging herself forward into her arms. 

Julie hugged her, fiercely, curling herself around Gill's body and turning them away from the door, shouldering it closed and then just standing there, rubbing Gill's back and murmuring sympathetic noises as Gill buried her face in Julie's jumper and shook with a fresh bout of tears. 

"Come on, now," Julie murmured, once the sobbing subsided. "You didn't really want to marry a bloke called Jack, did you? Imagine listening to those hill and pail-of-water jokes for the rest of your life, hey? That would have been a fucking arse."

She felt Gill laugh against her chest, and then Gill lifted her head, red-eyed and sniffling but composed. 

"I'm all right," she said after a moment, offering a fragile smile, "I just didn't want to be alone."

"Well, come on," Julie said, giving Gill's shoulder a nudge, "I've got a big glass of wine with your name on it."

She waited until Gill nodded and pulled away, and they made their way into the kitchen. 

"So," Julie said, as she poured wine into two rather large glasses, "do we have to burn him in effigy? He didn't take you out to dump you, did he?"

Gill was leaning against the counter. "No," she said, with a sigh. "He really did just want to celebrate. But between each course I was kind of...waiting, I suppose, but then we finished pudding, and he called the waiter over and just...asked for the bill. He could tell I was upset, when we left, and asked me what was wrong, so I told him. Turns out we just weren't on the same page at all."

Julie grimaced sympathetically and picked up the wine glasses, holding one out for Gill. "What did he say?" she asked. 

Gill glanced at the wine glass in Julie's hand but didn't take it, gave a brittle little laugh. "You know, this is going to sound mad, me coming here and throwing myself at you and all, but I don't know if I really want to talk about it."

"Okay," Julie said, nodding. "We'll see if we can find something funny on telly then, hey?" Julie stretched the wine glass out further. "Come on, before my hand drops off!" 

"Will you take it in? I just want to go and wash my face."

"Oh, right." Julie pulled her hand back. "Course."

Gill vanished off to the bathroom and Julie padded into the living room, set the wine glasses on the coffee table and turned the TV on, flicking through the channels to find something appropriately mindless. 

This was pure Gill, here tonight, wanting comfort but saying she was fine, crying but not wanting to talk about it. Julie was more bemused that Gill thought Julie would think her 'mad' for voicing it, be in any way surprised by that, than she was by the statement itself. 

Julie found a sitcom rerun - _Kate and Allie_ , somewhat appropriate - settled down onto the settee and picked up her wine. No, she was more than used to Gill being a ball of contradictions - quite liked it, in fact, that Gill was comfortable being that way with her, trusted her enough to be the one she came to when she couldn't quite articulate the sort of care she needed. 

Gill reappeared in the doorway, pink-faced with her makeup and mascara streaks washed away. Somehow, the lack made her look smaller, younger, vulnerable. She came over and curled up on the settee beside Julie, picking the glass of wine up off the table and taking a hearty sip. "Thanks, Slap," she murmured. 

Julie just smiled at her. 

And so they watched a sitcom about two women sharing the burdens of living, then the terrible cop show that played after it. Julie wasn't quite sure how much Gill's mind was occupied by it, but they took the piss out of the procedure well enough. When Gill had drained her wine, she shifted in her seat and snuggled into Julie's side. Julie let her arm fall down off the back of the settee to curl around Gill, and they were silent. 

It was nearly midnight by the time the show finished, and Julie had felt her head drop a few times. A comfortable seat and a warm body - Gill was always warm, like a little oven - curled up against you would do that. 

Gill lifted her head as the credits rolled. "Can I stay here tonight?"

Julie smiled at her. "Course you can. Spare bed's made, and I can dig out an old t-shirt for you to sleep in." They didn't move immediately, but after a few minutes Julie rolled her shoulders to shake off the drowsiness. "Come on," she said, and they disentangled themselves and rose to their feet. 

Upstairs, Gill hovered in the doorway of Julie's bedroom while Julie found an appropriately threadbare t-shirt for her - soft and well-worn. She grabbed a spare dressing gown from the drawer, too, and only realised as she handed both items to Gill that she'd seen her wrapped in that gown once before, after the night they'd...

"Thanks," Gill said, taking the bundle of fabric from Julie's hands and tugging her away from the thought. 

"There's, ah," and for a moment Julie struggled to find words, too distracted by the memory that was flitting through her brain. "There's towels in the cupboard on your left, as you head for the bathroom. If you need one." Julie had only bought this place a few months ago; Gill had never stayed over before. 

"Okay," Gill said, looking somewhat bemused, clearly not realising the reason for Julie's sudden distraction. "Goodnight, then."

"Night," Julie said, offering a smile, trying not to look like such a knob. 

Gill disappeared down the hall and Julie closed her bedroom door, tugging her jumper off and giving it a quick inspection before tossing it onto the chair in the corner that was already heaped with clothes that were worn but clean enough to wear again. The top underneath she tossed into the hamper, and her trousers ended up rumpled on the chair as well. She removed her underwear and slipped into her pyjamas, trying not to think about the night that had ended with Gill wrapped in her dressing gown and failing spectacularly. 

For the last two years, it had been easy not to think about it. A few months after that night, Julie had met a woman called Helen and they'd done the whole intense lesbians thing, ended up living together with a dog in under a year. Julie had put the deposit on this place with Helen in mind, but things had fallen apart before the settlement date - Julie was never home, spent too long at the pub when her workday was done, all that sort of thing. Helen had got custody of the dog and Julie had moved into her newly-bought house alone. She didn't mind, really - perhaps she'd not been ready to settle down and hadn't been honest enough about it - but being single again certainly gave her more room to be flustered by Gill, which was unproductive at best. 

Julie had just brushed her teeth and was emerging from her bathroom when there was a gentle tap at her door. 

"Slap?" called Gill's voice quietly. "You still up?"

"Yeah," Julie responded, "come in."

The door clicked open. Gill wasn't wearing the gown, but Julie wasn't sure if that was better or worse, all told. The t-shirt Julie had given her hung loose on her frame, but not nearly as loose as a man's would have. Her shape was still visible beneath the fabric, and while it did hang long enough to cover her backside, it only barely did. Julie took all this in in the time it took Gill to move through the door, then pushed it from her mind a moment later, focusing instead on Gill's face, on her hair still in that complicated updo, a few tangled strands pulled loose on one side. 

"Slap, will you help me with this? I went to the hairdresser to have it done, and I can't see properly in your mirror, and there's no hairbrush in your bathroom, and I'm making a mess of myself." Her eyes were large, like she was trying not to burst into tears again. 

"Well, I'm sorry my facilities aren't up to standard, your majesty," Julie quipped, trying to make Gill smile. When she didn't, just looked more spooked than ever, Julie changed tack quickly. "Of course. C'mere." She plucked her hairbrush off her dresser, crossed the room and prodded her pillows into shape. When she'd settled onto the bed cross-legged, she patted the spot in front of her. "Been ages since I've done this - since I moved out of home, probably." Julie was the eldest of four girls, so she had plenty of experience playing with hair, but it had definitely been a while. 

Gill offered a weak smile as she came to join Julie on the bed, settling in with her bum against Julie's feet. Julie felt the rasp of lace against her skin as the t-shirt rode up - the fancy knickers Gill had no doubt put on expecting quite a different ending to the night. 

Julie let her fingers fall against Gill's shoulder. "This is quite a job," she said, studying the elaborate construction of the twist in Gill's hair. "They did it beautifully." 

"Mm," Gill murmured, "I'm always really happy, where I go. Pity it didn't make any difference." 

Julie made a sympathetic noise and gave Gill's shoulder a squeeze, then let go and went to work unravelling the hairdo, sliding pins out one by one. Gill's hair was thick and fine, silky against Julie's fingertips as she released the twist from where it was pinned against Gill's skull. It came away in a heavy rope and Julie untwined it, threading her fingers through to find the pins hiding inside. 

"He said I'm too much," Gill murmured into the silence, almost to herself. Julie stayed silent, kept up the motions, untwisting this strand and that, sliding out pins, waiting for Gill to continue. Eventually, she did. "He said I'm too intense, too focussed on things - my job, the future, everything. Said he couldn't keep up with me, couldn't keep trying to."

Julie raked her fingers back through Gill's hair, feeling for any remaining pins. "That's really shit," she murmured. 

"It's not the first time someone's said that to me," Gill whispered. "I've always been like this. When I was little, girls used to tell me I was too bossy and they'd go and make friends with someone else. I lost one of my closest high school friends over a stupid project we were supposed to do together, that she just slacked off on and expected me to do."

Satisfied that she'd got all the pins out, Julie picked the hairbrush up off the bed and lifted the ends of Gill's hair, running it through to dislodge any tangles she'd made pulling out the style. "Some people are just..." she said, then smiled wryly. "It's a good thing we weren't at school together. I was the worst student, bunked off all the time, total waste of my parents' money. If it wasn't horses or music, I didn't give a shit about it."

Gill's shoulders gave a shrug as she snorted. "Funny how you meet some people exactly when you need to," she said. 

"Mm," Julie agreed, then they fell silent again, Julie moving higher with the brush and stroking down, taking her time, toying with the puffy little strands that had been curled especially and so fluffed up when brushed out. 

Gill made an appreciative noise. "That feels nice," she murmured, letting her head fall back. Julie reached up to her temples, smoothing the little face-framing curls back with her fingers then catching them with the brush, feeling Gill's skin twitch under her touch. The tangles were well out, now, but Julie kept up the motions, rather enjoying the whole experience. Gill's hair was long enough that the ends of it were tickling Julie's feet, and brushed out like this it smelled faintly sweet, like milk and honey. 

"It's a pattern, you know," Gill said, "with me. Too bossy, too demanding, too much. I just, I don't know how to be anyone else, and what if it's…" Her voiced cracked. "What if it's always too much for people? What if I never..." She cut herself off, breathing sharp and ragged.

Gill's words hit Julie like a blow. Her heart answered with a pang, because all of that was just a little too close to home. She remembered going through a similar cycle of ultimately unhelpful and self-defeating thoughts, after Helen: who would ever want to commit, long-term, to a woman who who considered her job her first priority? Helen had called her an abrasive workaholic, in the end, and Julie knew the latter was true, and the former also accurate, at least sometimes. Julie was forthright, blunt and opinionated, and not particularly ashamed of it, so no matter how much she tried, that was never likely to change. Altogether, that had made her a bad fit with Helen, and of course, in her darker moments, it made her completely unlovable, destined to be alone forever. Apparently, all that was rawer than she'd thought. The irony that she and Gill - so similar, in many respects, both strong-willed and passionate and driven - were sitting here having this conversation did not escape her, either. They were perfect for each other, except for the part where Gill was straight, or at least straight enough to not want a relationship with another woman. 

Julie couldn't help thinking, though, that even if a relationship was never going to happen, they could still be of some comfort to each other. That she would be all right with that, just this once. 

"I don't think you're too much," she whispered, and before she could think any more about it, leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Gill's shoulder. 

Immediately, Gill tensed up, and Julie pulled away. "I'm sorry," she said. "Is that a bad idea?" She toyed with the ends of Gill's hair. 

Gill took a deep breath, sounding rattled. "I don't know," she said. "Isn't it? We said we shouldn't, _you_ said, after last time."

"I know. But it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind?" She smiled, even though Gill couldn't see it. 

"I haven't," Gill said. "Not about where I stand."

"I know," Julie murmured, twining a strand of Gill's hair around her index finger. "And I'm okay with that, tonight at least. I mean, on this occasion, not in the way that I'll regret tomorrow."

" _On this occasion._ " Gill snorted, and the tension went out of her shoulders. "Posh bitch."

Julie smiled, and chanced a touch, laying her hand on Gill's hip. "Well, now you're just provoking me," she said, sliding her hand around to rest against Gill's stomach when she met no resistance. "Say things like that and I'm almost contractually obliged to kiss you, just to shut you up." She gathered all that hair up into her fist and laid it over Gill's left shoulder, trailing her fingers down the long tail and feeling the back of her hand brush against the side of Gill's breast. 

Gill leaned into the touch, or perhaps that was just incidental, shifting to the side so she could look back over her shoulder at Julie. "You sure?" she asked, searching Julie's face.

"Yeah," Julie murmured, smiling crookedly. "If you are." 

In answer, Gill arched back toward Julie, turning her head even further until Julie leaned in and met her in the middle. Julie's eyes fluttered closed as their lips touched, brushing right past tentative to a languid exploration, feeling out the familiarity and the difference, since last time. Julie's fingers curled against Gill's stomach and her other hand stroked Gill's arm, and Gill made a little noise into Julie's mouth and nipped at her bottom lip.

"Mm," Gill murmured as they broke apart, eyelashes fluttering, "this is a much better note to end the night on. Fuck men."

"Well, no," Julie replied, nuzzling her face against Gill's cheek and trailing lips along her jawline. "That would be missing the point entirely."

Gill laughed, reached a hand back to rest on Julie's knee, and canted her head to allow Julie's mouth better access to her throat, which Julie took full advantage of. Close up, she could smell traces of Gill's perfume on her skin - something woody and floral, nymph-like, and she murmured her approval even as she caught a faint, bitter taste of it and moved her mouth lower to bypass the spot. Meeting the edge of the t-shirt, she nudged it away with her chin just enough to suck on that fleshy spot where Gill's neck met her shoulder, nipping it lightly before she lifted her head again. 

"I think I want to spoil you tonight," Julie whispered in Gill's ear, before shifting back on the bed slightly so she could wriggle her legs out from behind Gill and stretch them out either side of her. That done, she wrapped her arm around Gill's middle again and tugged her close, so that her back could rest against Julie's body. "How does that sound?"

Gill laughed, settling back against Julie and using her knees as armrests, fingers idly trailing over Julie's shins. "Permission to be selfish? What am I, a princess?"

"Queen," Julie answered, without missing a beat. She nibbled at Gill's ear. "I crown you pillow queen for the night."

Gill's head turned toward her. "Is that a rule?" she asked, dropping the laughter. 

Julie paused her nuzzling, considered. She was surprised that Gill even remembered what that was - the conversation they'd had once about stone butches and femmes and all the different words lesbians had for talking about and exploring their sexual identities had been ages ago, and had occurred in the pub. "Not specifically?" she answered, after a moment. "But I want to take care of you, wear you out, so I hope you won't object." She slipped her fingers beneath the t-shirt and felt Gill's abdomen quiver under her touch. 

"Why on earth would I object?" Gill asked, voice breathy, dropping her head back against Julie's shoulder and arching into her touch. Julie hoped that was a rhetorical question, because her mouth immediately occupied itself with kissing Gill's throat again.

Taking care. That was what this night was about, wasn't it? Gill trusted Julie to be the one she came to when she couldn't quite define what she needed, and Julie would give it to her, whatever _it_ turned out be. Tonight, that need was quite clearly a comforting touch, as well as a kind of mental oblivion; Julie could provide both. 

She slid her left hand around Gill's waist to join the other underneath her shirt, and together they traced lines over Gill's skin, fluttering up and down her sides and drawing circles on her belly. Julie wrote her full name out with her finger, liking the way the loops and whorls made Gill's skin twitch, then using her bellybutton to dot the 'i'. She kept her mouth moving against Gill's throat and watched her in profile, enjoying the sight of the blush rising in her cheeks. 

When both of Julie's hands slid up to cup Gill's breasts, Julie felt the moan vibrate through Gill's throat before she heard it. Gill turned her head, then, mouth finding Julie's again. This time, there was nothing languid in her kiss. It was hot and demanding, and Gill's fingers curled around Julie's ankles as she stretched her head further back to devour Julie's mouth. Julie rolled her thumbs over Gill's nipples; Gill groaned against her lips. 

"I think I like being the queen," she whispered as their lips parted, mouths hovering close. "Queens are allowed to be demanding."

"Mm, they are," Julie replied, keeping up the light motions of her fingers until Gill started to squirm. "But don't forget that the monarchy is largely a symbolic institution these days." She grinned and kissed the edge of Gill's mouth. "The queen can demand all she wants, but the people will do whatever they please." She rolled Gill's nipples between her thumb and forefinger for emphasis, pinching lightly. 

Gill whined and arched her head back against Julie's shoulder. "Think I preferred the days of absolute power."

Julie chuckled and nipped Gill's earlobe. "Now, where's the fun in that?" 

She gave over a few moments later, though, as soon as Gill's whining and squirming grew just a little too frustrated. With one hand splayed out against Gill's breastbone, holding her close, she slipped the other down over stomach again, feeling her way down, running a finger over the waistband of Gill's knickers before bypassing them completely to trace patterns on her thighs instead, first with the tips of fingers and then with her blunt nails, smirking as Gill groaned and spread her legs wide, hooking her ankles over Julie's feet. 

Gill twisted her head against Julie's shoulder until her lips found the underside of Julie's chin. "You're a cruel woman," she murmured, pressing hot little kisses there. "Horrid."

"I've barely even gotten started," Julie whispered in response. She slid two fingers along the edges of Gill's knickers, right at the apex of her thighs, and Gill arched her hips up off the bed, trying to make contact with Julie's palm. Smirking, Julie pulled her hand away completely, then brought it down in a quick sharp slap. 

"Fuck!" Gill cried, jerking upright so quickly that her head butted Julie's chin. Blinking, Julie laughed, and a moment later Gill collapsed back against her, laughing too. "Bloody hell, Slap," she gasped, then realised what she'd said and laughed again. The laughter cut off abruptly when Julie's hand finally lowered to cup her mound. 

" _God, Gill,_ " Julie whispered, feeling how wet she was. Heat radiated off her, and those lacy knickers were all but soaked through. Julie teased a finger over her through the fabric and Gill trembled in her arms, and the strength of that reaction filled Julie up with powerful, satisfying pleasure. She brought her mouth down onto Gill's throat again, trying to convey in her kiss just how glorious it felt to have made Gill so molten hot, but it just wasn't an accurate enough form of communication. 

Gill's hips were rolling in little circles on the bed, pushing herself up against Julie's hand. Julie allowed it for a time, giving up her palm for grinding, squeezing gently in response, but then she nipped Gill's throat and lifted her head again. 

"I want to put my tongue in you," she breathed in Gill's ear. "Want to taste you. Will you let me?" As soon as she'd said it, Julie cringed inwardly. The words sounded ridiculous to her, like a bad romance novel, even if they did accurately describe Julie's desire - what she'd wanted to do ever since the first time she'd got her hands on Gill.

If Gill noticed the wording, she was far too far gone to mock it. " _God yes_ ," she whispered, pushing herself up against Julie's fingers one last time.

They manouvered. It was a little complicated, as tangled as they were, and Gill was hardly clear-headed, but Julie managed to guide her into a comfortable position without too much trouble - head on the pillow with all that hair spread out behind her, looking like a wild goddess with her cheeks flushed pink. Julie tugged her knickers off - something Gill was all too willing to assist with - then nudged her knees apart and crawled between her legs. 

Much to Gill's chagrin, Julie didn't dive right in. She tugged at the t-shirt first, rucking it up over Gill's stomach and pressing kisses there, in the hollow beneath her ribcage, then down to her tiny rounded belly. Gill's protests were inarticulate, spoken in groans and whimpers and writhing, but Julie read them well enough. She lifted her head just long enough to throw Gill a grin that felt feral on her face. 

She kissed Gill's hip, finding the jut of bone and working down from there, mouthing her way along a thigh and licking at that sensitive skin. She gripped Gill behind the knees and spread her wider, switching to the opposite leg and giving that attention too, sucking kisses and the gentlest of bites, just to vary the sensation. She could smell Gill as she worked her way up, musky and earthy and wet, and she longed to taste her, feeling rather desperate herself, but she forced herself to draw it out. By the time she dragged her tongue along the apex of thigh, Gill was trembling with need. Her back was arched off the bed, her entire body strung tight as a bow. Julie breathed a gust of warm air against her sex, and even that made her jerk. Time enough, Julie thought. With a hum, she lowered her mouth to Gill's cunt and kissed her deeply.

She felt Gill turn boneless, every muscle in her body sagging in relief as Julie licked her. She tasted salty and warm, and Julie devoured her, not letting up now she'd started, wanting to draw her tight again and send her flying into oblivion. Gill's whimpers turned to moans, throaty and raw, and Julie marvelled at it - she'd not been nearly this vocal last time. Her fingers found their way into Julie's hair and fisted in it, tugging her closer, and Julie felt the strain of Gill's thighs as she held them open to give herself unlimited access. She sucked and licked and fucked with her tongue, gave Gill everything she had, and when she felt Gill's body going taut again, felt her muscles quiver and heard her voice falter, she fastened her lips around Gill's clit and sucked, slipping a hand up to slide two fingers inside her. Her hair fell across her eyes as Gill buried a second hand in it, and then she was crying out and shaking and her fingernails were digging into Julie's scalp.

Julie let her fingers slide away once the quivering eased, smoothing her tongue over Gill's wet while she lay twitching. She trailed her hand up to cup Gill's hip, holding her the only way she could. She looked up for a moment, up at the sight of Gill's breasts heaving underneath the bunched up t-shirt, at her head arched back against the pillow. Her thighs still twitched, and Julie wondered. With a smile, she lowered her head again, lathing the flat of her tongue over Gill's slit, curling around her clitoris and sucking gently. Gill murmured in a confused sort of way, but then her thighs gave a jerk and she shouted " _Oh!_ " as a second climax shuddered through her body. 

"I wasn't sure if you could do that," Julie murmured, once the tremors faded away. 

One of Gill's hands had fallen, limp, onto the duvet. The other carded weakly through Julie's hair. It took her some time to respond. "I didn't know… I never have before."

"Hm," Julie murmured, smiling, kissing Gill's thigh, the thought warming her whole body through. "Think I'm quite proud of myself, then." She lifted her head, caught Gill's smile. Her eyes were still closed but her lips twisted up in amusement. 

"Cocky bitch," she murmured. 

Julie chuckled, pushed herself up to sit. "Suitably worn out?" she asked.

Gill cracked her eyes open; they were warm and sated. "Yeah, completely. Hope that's okay."

Julie smiled. "I said, didn't I? I don't say things I don't mean."

"Can I sleep with you?" Gill asked, sounding lazy and hopeful.

Julie laughed. "Of course you can, you dozy cow. We're getting under the covers this time, though."

Gill murmured in protest. "That means moving."

"Only for a moment, lazy sod." 

Julie pushed herself up properly, slid off the bed, reached for Gill to help her up. With another murmured protest, Gill lifted her hands to Julie's, allowing herself to be tugged upright long enough for Julie to turn the duvet down and rearrange the pillows. Then they were crawling back in and Julie flicked the light off and snuggled down, getting comfortable before she reached out a hand and tugged Gill close, arm draped around her middle and thumb trailing idly back and forth over her belly. After a moment, Gill's hand came up and curled around Julie's forearm.

"All right?" Julie murmured into the darkness.

"Yeah," Gill responded, sounding sleepy and pleased. "You?"

"Yeah," Julie agreed, and found she sounded the same.


	3. Chapter 3

**iii.**

Sammy and Orla don't stay long, but thanks to Julie's - arguably bad - influence, Sammy is well on the way to being in the right state for a 21st by the time they leave. After giving them both a hug goodbye and waving them out the door, Julie returns to the bar, which is being held up by Mitch. 

"All right?" Julie asks, joining him while she waits to be served. Mitch has his phone in one hand and a pint in the other, but he looks up when she speaks and greets her with a smile. 

"Yeah," he says, "good night. Bit strange to be at the retirement bash of someone you trained with, but it's good to send her out in style."

"Strange for you?" Julie smiles. "I remember when you all started. Only by a few years, mind, but I do. Never thought I'd see Gill retire. What about you; got any plans?"

Mitch laughs. "Nah. If I could spend all day fishing, it'd be a different story, but my wife's got a list of DIY jobs as long as her arm, just waiting for the day I put my notice in. If it's a choice between nicking murderers and re-tiling the bathroom, I'll take the murderers."

Julie laughs. "Fair enough."

"What about you?" He takes a sip of his beer. 

"I think I've got a few more years in me yet," she says, smiling. "I'll see how Gill handles it first. Reckon we're similar enough for that to be good litmus test of what my own retirement might look like. So if she goes spare, you might see me around for a while."

Mitch smiles. "I give her six months. Time enough for a holiday and some gardening, then she'll be back. Consulting for the NPIA, running courses, summat like that."

"Happen I might even agree with you," Julie murmurs conspiratorially. 

Mitch's phone pings in his hand; he glances down at it and snorts. "Yeah, that is not happening," he mutters, sliding his thumb over the screen and shooting off a quick response. He looks up at Julie again, and she arches an eyebrow. 

"What isn't?"

Mitch shakes his head. "Dave. Wants to know what pub we're at. Not happening."

Julie blinks, not sure whether to be amused or switch over into immediate rage. She settles somewhere in the middle. "I should think not," she agrees, but now Mitch's phone is ringing. 

"Mate," Mitch says as he answers the call, "you are not coming here... I'm not telling you." Julie can hear Dave's voice, loud, on the other end of the line, though she can't make out what he's saying. Mitch flicks a glance in Julie's direction, rolls his eyes. "That's good, mate, good for you. You stay there... Yeah he's not here anyway. I'm standing here with Julie Dodson, actually... Yeah she's wearing a wicked pair of heels. Yeah, you stay where you are, mate, keep your balls safe." Julie laughs at that, almost despite herself, as Mitch tries to bring the conversation to a close. "Yeah, yeah... Definitely, mate, soon. Okay, ta-ta." 

"Crisis averted?" Julie asks as he disconnects the call. 

Mitch tucks his phone into his pocket. "Sounds like he started trying pubs at random hours ago," he says, shaking his head. 

"Twat," Julie says, then makes a token effort to look contrite. "Sorry. Sometimes I forget that you were Switzerland in their divorce." Not that Julie had liked Dave even when they were married, but that seems like splitting hairs. 

Mitch rolls a shoulder and smiles. "If the shoe fits..." He takes a drink. "Wouldn't have let him ruin Gill's night. He's not all bad, though."

"Mm," Julie murmurs, non-committal. She supposes he must have some redeeming qualities, but she's never seen them. 

The barman approaches. "Having a shot, this time?" he asks, and Julie grins. 

"Why not? Mitch?"

His smile is laconic. "Oh, go on, twist my arm," he says. 

"Preference?" Julie asks. Mitch shrugs. "Surprise me," she tells the barman. 

The barman eyes both Julie and Mitch contemplatively, then turns and pulls three bottles off the shelf - Jim Beam, Jack Daniels and Johnnie Walker. "They call it 'three wise men'," he says, setting them on the bar. 

"A mythical concept if ever there was one," Julie laughs. "Sold."

The barman pours them, equal parts of each into two glasses, slides them across the bar. Julie hands her money over and asks for another pint while she's at it. She passes Mitch's drink to him and he nods in thanks, picking the glass up between forefinger and thumb. 

"To unwise men trying to crash their exes retirement parties," he says, with a smirk. 

"And the wiser ones telling them to bugger off," Julie counters, and they down their shots.

~*~

"So I told him to bugger off," Gill said. "After I called him every name under the sun. He's gone. Dave's gone."

2008, and it felt like rain after a long drought to hear Gill say that, necessary and life-giving. 

"Good," Julie said. "That's good, isn't it?"

"I suppose it must be," Gill answered, voice hollow on the other end of the phone, and the sound of it ripped away any notion that this was a moment of elation or victory for Julie. 

"You did what you needed to do," Julie said, voice heavy. "For your own happiness. For self-respect."

"She wasn't the first. He admitted that, in the end. I knew, I think. There were other times... Where was my self-respect then?"

"Tangled up," Julie said, and found the words came remarkably easily, "with having a child and wanting to keep your family together, with having a job that takes you away from home for whole weeks sometimes, with pragmatism or wanting to believe in someone you loved. It's really easy to put yourself last and not even realise you're doing it."

It was a conversation Julie had had with herself many times over the years - every time she heard a new rumour about Dave's infidelity or had to witness the way he spoke to Gill, every time she bit her tongue and didn't shout _how are you still with this man?_ She'd become quite accustomed to making lists in her head of all Gill's possible reasons for staying, trying to understand. Reminding herself that Gill's life was her own, and that her role as a friend was to be there to support Gill if and when she chose to leave, not to puncture her obvious denial and drag her away. It had been good practice, apparently - the words rolled off her tongue without so much as a thought. 

Gill sighed. "I suppose so. God, but what are people going to _say_?"

"Nothing they wouldn't have said once word got round that there was a uniform having his bastard," Julie said. _Nothing they haven't been whispering for years_ , she refrained from adding. 

"And I'm supposed to be in Bristol next week. I don't know what I'm going to do about that. Sammy can't stay with my mum when he's got school, and I'm sure as hell not calling _his_ mother. I'm going to have to take leave, without any notice. Bloody hell." She sounded almost as angry about that as she was about Dave's infidelity. Julie knew well how important the job was to her. 

"I could come and stay," she offered. "For the week, or until you've got yourself sorted. I mean, I'd still be getting in late, but probably no later than Dave was."

Gill snorted darkly. "Yeah, if he was even coming straight home." She changed her tone a moment later. "That would be really helpful, actually. Are you sure? You'll hit more traffic in the morning between here and Duke Street."

Julie smiled. "Of course I'm sure, you daft cow. What's a bit of traffic between friends?"

*

In the end, Julie stayed considerably longer than a week. Sammy was shaken, as any fourteen year-old would be at having his world turned upside down overnight, and Gill, usually the epitome of together, was a disorganised mess. Julie arrived on the Sunday evening and packed Gill off to Bristol early Monday morning, at which point Sammy informed her that he didn't have a clean school uniform. She let him have the day off ( _just today, mind, and don't tell your mum_ ) and taught him how to use the washing machine.

They rubbed along okay. As she'd expected, Sammy was fairly self-sufficient as far as feeding himself, and on the nights she was home early enough, Julie bought takeaway. Sammy had inherited his mother's tidying gene and collected the mugs and assorted crockery Julie had a habit of leaving laying about, and she was a dab hand at the washing up. She didn't nag him about his homework, and he didn't make a fuss when she, half-awake in the morning and forgetting where she was, wandered out of the bathroom in her underwear. 

When Gill arrived home late on Friday evening, they were swearing at each other over a game of _Gears of War_ , and she appeared in the living room doorway looking momentarily terrified, until Julie managed a spectacular headshot and let out a whoop as Sammy's character's brains splattered all over the screen. 

"Ha, take that, you sneaky little bastard!" she exclaimed, flicking a glance over her shoulder and catching Gill's panicked expression fading to relief. "Hiya, Slap," she added, just in time for Sammy to catch himself and not vocalise the stream of creative abuse he'd likely been about to let fly. 

Gill recovered her poise immediately. "Excuse me, lady, is that any way to speak to my only son?"

Julie flopped back into her seat, grinning. "Your son," she said, "is _far_ too enthusiastic about killing things for the child of police officers."

"Oi!" Sammy cried, gesturing with his controller. "What did you say when you found that rocket launcher, Chief Inspector?"

"You're both ridiculous," Gill interjected, smiling. She dropped her overnight bag just inside the door and headed for the kitchen. " _I_ am going to pour myself a glass of wine, deal with my frustrations like an _adult_."

"I'll be in that," Julie said. "There's some leftover curry in the fridge, if you're hungry."

"How many days old is it?" Gill called, already out of the room. 

"Tonight's, thank you very much!"

"I should pack this up," Sammy said, extending his hand for her controller. "Supposed to be hooked up in the den."

"Oh, you didn't mention _that_ before," Julie murmured, arching an eyebrow and passing it to him.

Sammy flashed her a grin. "This TV's better. Don't get to use it very often." He made short work of packing up, though, which made Julie suspect he had more practice than he let on. 

By the time Gill came back into the room carrying a glass of wine and steaming bowl of curry, the Xbox was bundled in Sammy's arms. "I poured you a glass," she said to Julie, "but I didn't have enough hands. Sorry." 

Julie sighed dramatically and made to climb out of her chair, but Sammy stopped her. "I'll get it for you!" He set his armful of gaming console down on the coffee table, ducked into the kitchen and returned a moment later with her wine. 

Gill, curling herself into the armchair he'd just vacated, watched him hand Julie her glass with a raised eyebrow and an incredulous expression, waited until he'd picked up his Xbox again before she said, "Where's my kiss, then?"

Sammy had the good grace to look abashed. Clutching the machine to his chest, he moved over to her, leaning down carefully to plant a kiss on her waiting cheek. "Hi Mum," he said. "Hope you solved lots of crimes this week."

"I helped solve a few." She smiled, satisfied. "I hope you did all your homework and got enough sleep?"

"Mostly, yeah," he said. "And Jared's Mum picked me up for football training and offered to do it next week, too, if I needed."

"That was nice of her," Gill said. "We'll see how we go. You putting that back in the den?" She eyed the Xbox. 

"Course," he said. "Unless you and Julie fancy a go."

Gill laughed. "Go on, off with you. Dismissed."

He vanished gratefully.

Julie waited until he was out of earshot, waited until Gill had taken a sip of her wine and settled in with her bowl before she asked: "So, how _did_ it go?"

"It was all right," Gill said, poking around in the curry. "I wasn't on top form, but I managed. I've spoken to my boss, put my notice in."

"What?" Julie asked, alarmed. Her notice...?

"Oh, I mean, I put in for leave, starting in two weeks. But I've told them I won't be coming back; I'll have to find a transfer. I can't do it, can I? Can't be off around the country with Sammy at home, not long-term." She took a mouthful of food, and Julie nodded, took a sip of her wine. 

"I'm sorry," she said. She knew how much Gill loved the crime faculty. 

Gill rolled a shoulder. "That's life, I suppose. It's like you said, it's a choice for self-respect. Staying with Dave while he paid for the upbringing of his whore's child, no. Not for any job in the world. I'll find something else."

Julie curled her feet under her, leaned against the arm of the lounge. "What about the next two weeks?" she asked. 

"They'll keep me here, as much as possible anyway. No overnighters, or so they say."

"Well, I can stay here as long as you need me to, beat Sammy at video games a few more times."

Gill smiled. "He loves you, you know. He's never offered to fetch _my_ wine."

"Well, of course he does," Julie said, taking a sip from her glass. "I _am_ fantastic."

Gill laughed. "You buy a good curry, I'll give you that," she said. She picked up her wine for a sip before going back to her bowl. 

"Give me a phone and a takeaway menu, I'm a domestic goddess," Julie replied. 

Gill took another mouthful before she spoke again. "I've made an appointment for Wednesday, with a solicitor."

"That's good," Julie said. "Better than trying to hash it out yourself, considering."

"I'm not losing this place," Gill said. "This house is everything I ever wanted. He can pry the deed out of my cold, dead fingers."

"Have you..." Julie hesitated, taking a drink of her wine. "Have you made any other appointments?"

"Not yet," Gill said. "Don't know that there are any others, at least until I hear what the solicitor's got to say." She scraped her fork around the bowl, took the last mouthful of food, then set her crockery aside and picked up her wine. 

Julie took another drink. "I was thinking more along the lines of...medical appointments. If he got her pregnant, he obviously didn't always use protection, so it's probably worth having some tests done."

Gill's face froze. "I hadn't even thought of that," she whispered, shoulders dropping. "God, _bastard_. I don't even... Do you just make an appointment with your doctor?"

"You can," Julie said, "but how long do you want to wait? You might be better off with a clinic. Most of them will do blood tests as well as others."

" _Fuck,_ " Gill breathed, taking rather a large mouthful of wine. 

"I'll go with you, if you like."

Gill still looked spooked, but she smiled despite it. "You _are_ fantastic," she said.

*

They went that weekend, since both of them were off and Gill said she suddenly felt dirty. It was an awkward couple of hours, sitting in the walk-in clinic, but Julie was glad she could be there for Gill, driving her there and back and helping her fill out the questionnaires. Afterward, they went for a pub lunch that turned into a long session, which Gill apparently needed.

Julie stayed that two weeks until Gill's leave. She made sure the washing got sorted and ducked out of the office at three one afternoon to pick Sammy up from school in the rain. On the Wednesday after Gill's meeting with the solicitor, Julie made sure she was out early enough to go to Tesco, and cooked them all a proper meal. Delia Smith she wasn't, but she had a few tasty staples under her belt, and there was nothing like tomato pesto and pine nuts to make chicken and pasta seem fancy. 

On that night she comforted Gill when she cried about the pain of reducing their married life into a series of sums and figures, and on Saturday, when Dave didn't make it to Sammy's football game, she picked him up and then pulled into a deserted carpark on the way home so he could rage and cry without anyone else seeing. After he'd got it out she gave him a hug and bought him a burger, and they went home with his adolescent masculinity intact. 

Dave resurfaced in that second week. On Tuesday evening he showed up on the doorstep. Gill had had the presence of mind to have the locks changed, after she'd turfed him out - which was dubiously legal at best, really, but worth it for the look of shock on his face when Julie answered the door. 

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?" he snarled, recovering from the shock by ramping up the aggression, and Julie stepped out of the way to allow him entry with a casual sort of disdain. She'd dealt with his bluster before, plenty of times.

"Performing the duties _you_ ducked out of," she replied, letting the subtle innuendo of it hang in the air as she leaned into his space to close the door behind him. "Come in, why don't you. Gill's at work, but I'll give her a call and see if she's willing to see you."

Dave's back arched, but he said nothing, stalking importantly into the living room and then seeming to not know what to do with himself, turning a half circle before he seated himself in one of the armchairs and glowered at her.

Julie left him there, deliberately turning her back as she moved off to the kitchen to retrieve her phone, but lurking outside the door so she could keep an eye on him - and so that her voice would carry - as she called Gill.

Gill picked up on the second ring. "Hiya, Slap." Julie could hear traffic.

"Hi," Julie said. "Are you on your way home? There's some garbage in the living room and I don't know if you want me to keep it here for you or chuck it out into the street." She probably couldn't, not if he refused to go, same way she couldn't really refuse him entry, but it was satisfying to say.

Gill sighed. "Keep it. I'll be about fifteen. Don't set it on fire, either, okay?"

Julie barked a laugh. "Wouldn't dream of it. That's your privilege." 

"I'll see you soon." She rang off.

Julie returned to the living room. "She's on her way," she said, and perched herself on the arm of the other chair. She didn't say anything else, just stared Dave down, and while there hadn't been anything remotely satisfying about Gill's distress, there was some in this. In silently filling in the space he'd left behind.

They didn't speak, and Julie didn't move until she heard Gill's car pull in, at which time she met her in the entrance hall. 

"He still here?" Gill asked as she closed the door behind her. She slipped her handbag off over her shoulder and set it on the side table. 

"Yeah," Julie confirmed, jerking her head in the direction of the living room. "In there." She pitched her voice at a murmur this time so they wouldn't be overheard. "You want me to go get a pint up the road or something, or…?"

"No," Gill shook her head, looking slightly panicked at the idea. "Will you just...hang around somewhere? I'll be fine with him, but come and drag me out if you hear me throw anything, yeah?"

"Okay." Julie offered a reassuring smile. 

Sammy was in his room, and if he'd heard his dad arrive he'd had the good the sense to stay out of the way. Julie knocked on his door anyway, just to let him know that the living room was best treated as a no-go zone for the next little while. 

Julie got the tea started. She knew Gill had been planning on cooking - the first time she had done, since all of this blew up - and there was a recipe book open on the bench and some fresh vegetables in the fridge. Julie opened a bottle of wine to let it breathe - Gill would undoubtedly need it - and set to washing and peeling and chopping. It worked well - she was close enough to hear the murmur of Gill and Dave's voices, but she was making enough noise that she couldn't quite hear what they were saying. That was good. Kept her from sticking her neck in, anyway. 

They were in there for a good half hour. Voices raised and quieted, and then Gill went to fetch Sammy, and a brief discussion later, Dave left with a minimum of fuss. 

Julie was pouring Gill a glass of wine when she found her way into the kitchen. 

"Wow," she said as she took the glass gratefully, eyeing the various vegetables washed and chopped and set aside in bowls. "Didn't know you had it in you, Slap."

Julie smiled. "Somehow it's easy to cut things with Dave talking in the other room."

"Mm, that does sound therapeutic," Gill agreed, taking a large sip from her glass before she set it down. "I'll take over from here, if you like."

Julie surrendered the knife gladly, picked up her own wine glass and moved to sit on one of the breakfast bar stools, waiting for Gill to retrieve a tray of meat from the fridge before she spoke. "So, that went well? I didn't hear you throw anything, anyway."

Gill pierced the plastic film on the tray with the knife. "He's moving in with her," she said, glancing up at Julie. Her voice had an edge but her face was all control and trying. Julie took a sip of wine and left silence for her to fill. 

"He's moving in with his whore, but that means he's not going to fight me on the house. We'll have to hash out the details with the solicitor, because he thinks he's worth more than I do, but that's okay. That's doable. He wants to see Sammy every other weekend, starting this week. Sammy's agreed. I'm glad of that, at least. That's important." 

By the time Gill finished talking, she'd sliced the beef into neat strips, and she seemed satisfied by the sight of rendered flesh and bloody knife. She rinsed her hands in the sink then picked up her wine again. "He thinks you being here means we're shagging, by the way. He'll be spreading that round his office by the end of the week."

"Well," Julie said, "if you're going to do the time…" She cut herself off, looked down into her wine glass. They'd joke-flirted plenty in the last nineteen years, sometimes raucously, Gill safely married and Julie as often as not in one of her serially monogamous relationships. But things were different now, weren't they? The net was gone. Julie looked up again, hoping she hadn't just made things weird.

But Gill was smiling. "Steady on," she said, "we still don't know if he's given me syphilis yet."

*

"Hiya!" Julie announced herself on Friday evening as she let herself in the front door. "Gill, how do you feel about working in MIT?"

"What?" Gill called, and Julie heard footsteps on the stairs before Gill appeared. 

"How do you feel about running your own MIT syndicate?" Julie repeated, setting her handbag on the side table. 

Gill smiled. "Why, did you get fired?"

"Yeah," Julie agreed, shrugging her jacket off. "They caught me shagging Debbie Shepherd on my desk and they want me out by tomorrow. Paperwork's a bit sticky, but the desk is yours if you want it."

Gill's smile widened. Julie sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose. "Why do you smell of fish?"

"Prawns," Gill corrected. "It's what's for tea. I've been shelling."

"Upstairs?" Julie asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

Gill's smile turned sly. "Well, no. Dave's picking up Sammy and a few of his things in half an hour. I thought we could spare one prawn, so I've sewn it into the hem of one of his suits. Little housewarming gift for him and the whore."

Julie sucked in a breath, then let it out again in a gust of helpless laughter. "Good god, woman, remind me to never, ever get on your bad side."

"I thought that was rather creative," Gill said, eyes twinkling. "I've impressed myself. But I should probably go and wash up so I don't give the game away."

"I'm longing to get changed," Julie agreed. "I'm serious about MIT, though, you know. They want another syndicate to work out of Oldham, and they're looking for someone to run it who's got enough experience and clout to handpick a team. I gave the DCS your number. You should think about it, because he'll probably call you." Julie was already unbuttoning her shirt as she headed into her room. 

An hour later, Sammy and the prawn were on their way to Dave's new digs, and Julie and Gill were laughing about it over their wine while the rest of their dinner simmered in the pan. 

"You know," Julie said, "if he finds that before it decomposes, he's going to think it was my doing."

Gill smiled and stirred the sauce in the pan. "Maybe it was, subliminally," she said, and winked at Julie's incredulous expression. "Your mere presence is a corruptive influence; I'm the rule-abiding good girl who wants to be bad, and you're the outspoken rebel who leads me astray."

Julie snorted. "That's some nice revisionist history, right there. You never met a rule you couldn't bend to your advantage, and I'm only outspoken because I never did learn to keep my gob shut."

Gill laughed. "Maybe. You do rub off on me, though."

"If only," Julie replied, her voice surprising her by dropping an octave.

Gill's smile twisted up and she glanced at Julie from beneath her eyelashes with an expression more playful than Julie had seen in years. It was the kind of look that set something warm quivering in Julie's stomach, but in the next moment Gill had glanced away again, down at the pan on the stove. She gave it a stir, ran a finger up the side of the spoon to catch some sauce, then sucked that finger into her mouth to taste what she'd made.

"Hm," she murmured, considering, as she pulled her finger away. She gave the sauce another stir and scooped some of it up, letting the steam rise off it for a few moments before she beckoned Julie over. "Come and taste this, tell me if you think it needs salt."

Julie slid off her stool, finding that the heat curled in her leant her movement a certain grace she didn't always feel. Slipping around the cabinets, she moved into Gill's space, leaning in until Gill raised the spoon to her lips, then taking a careful, deliberate sip from the end of it - the sauce was creamy and tomatoey and surprisingly boozy.

"Mm," she murmured as she pulled away, licking her lips. "I think it's perfect."

GIll's eyebrow was slightly raised; she seemed unaware of it, as though it was stuck that way. Silence hung for a moment between them, and then Gill smiled and set the spoon down. "Good," she said. "I'll put the prawns in, then. _You_ can set the table."

Julie grinned. "Yes, ma'am," she said, pressing two fingers to her temple and saluting, before turning to do exactly that.

The dinner was delicious - the prawns and a generous helping of linguine tossed through that glorious pink sauce - so delicious, in fact that they barely talked through it, preferring instead to make vaguely obscene noises and dab sauce off their chins.

Julie did break for air to say: "I'm going to miss this, you know; you can come and cook for me any time."

"In that order?" Gill asked, and Julie nearly choked on her pasta. 

"Gill!" she managed, picking up her wine glass for a gulp, but her wit failed her because she was too preoccupied making sure everything went down the right way. 

"What?" Gill asked, picking her own glass up to take a determined sip. "I'm a single woman; I can flirt as much as I like."

Julie, recovered now, speared a prawn and wound pasta around her fork, smiling. "Oh, I wasn't complaining." She did wonder where this was going, though, couldn't help but push back a little. "I'm not fussy about the order in which I eat."

Now it was Gill's turn to react, and react she did. Her face was composed, but her skin betrayed her, pink rising in her cheeks to highlight her already prominent cheekbones. She smiled, and returned her attention to her meal, and Julie took her next mouthful but didn't lower her own gaze until she'd finished chewing it. 

They let that hang there, neither addressed or dismissed, while they finished their meal, taking their time with their last mouthfuls and savouring both the food and the atmosphere. When finally they'd laid down their cutlery and were finishing off their wine, Gill spoke again. 

"It's going to be strange when you go home. It's been wonderful having you here. I don't know what I would have done. Thank you." She said it gently, eyes earnest, and any jokey quip Julie might have responded with died on her tongue. 

"I'm glad I could be here," she said, smiling back. "Glad you finally did what you needed to." It had the potential to open a can of worms, a statement like that, and Julie was a little uncertain after she said it. Thus far, they'd managed to avoid having the conversation about how much Julie had known about Dave's philandering, and why she'd never said anything (only what she'd heard in rumours, for the first part, though some of them were quite reliable; as for the second, well, she _had_ tried, more than once, but each time Gill had shut her down quick-smart, and at one point it had almost cost them their friendship). Julie wondered if they were going to hash that out now - an idea that she found strangely disappointing, given the atmosphere during the meal and how such a discussion would ruin it. 

But Gill didn't seem inclined to, simply watched Julie with those still-warm eyes for a moment before she replied, "Me too."

She drained her wine glass and rose from her seat, picking up her empty plate and reaching across for Julie's. "Pudding?" she asked, arching a brow. 

Julie grinned. "What've you got?" 

"Oh, I'm sure I can rustle up something," Gill said, sounding coy and flicking Julie another one of those playful glances. 

Julie leaned back in her seat, cradling her wine glass in her hand, and watched Gill set the bowls in the sink and then stealthily navigate the kitchen, sliding something out of the fridge and onto the bench, holding it low so Julie couldn't see. 

"Why am I being spoiled?" Julie asked, as Gill pulled two bowls from the cupboard and rummaged around in the drawer for cutlery. She did it all theatrically, like she was performing a magic trick. 

Gill smiled at her. "Just, you know, as thanks, and, well..." And here she paused, biting her lip as she performed some tricky maneuver - balancing something on a knife? - "we are celebrating."

"Are we?" Julie asked. "Celebrating what?"

Gill performed the tricky maneuver again, and took a moment to arranged whatever-it-was, before she looked up again. "I got my results from the clinic today," she said, picking up the two bowls and returning to the table, "and I've got a clean bill of health. No nasty surprises."

Julie grinned. "That's fantastic," she said, "I'm so happy for you." God, she couldn't imagine how it might have been if Dave had left her with something nasty and incurable. 

Gill laid the bowl in front of her, and Julie let out an involuntary "Ooh!" The dessert was meringue roulade, one of her favourites, stuffed with fresh berries and cream. "Did you _make_ this?" she asked, impressed. 

Gill laughed. "It's not hard. I left the office early, last day and all. I had time."

" _Yum,_ " she said, and picked up her spoon. She'd nearly drained her wine glass, and Gill had finished hers, so she scooped up a spoonful of the dessert and raised that instead. "Cheers to your health," she said, and ate, letting out a moan when the sweet concoction touched her tongue. "My god," she murmured, once she'd swallowed. "Talk about the way to a woman's heart."

Gill was smiling, delighted. She watched Julie for a moment before she started on her own serve with considerably more dignity. "I feel free," she said, "today, finally. In that way you do when you don't even know you've been trapped by something. I want to celebrate that, too." 

"How?" Julie asked, licking cream off her spoon. 

Gill's answer was a look so heated that Julie nearly fell off her chair. 

Julie made absolutely certain that she tasted her pudding. After that look, she wanted nothing more than to wolf it down and open herself up to whatever possibilities the night was offering, but Gill had made this, and it was too good to waste. She took her time with it, deliberately, but even so, by the time she finished her brain was buzzing with sugar and anticipation. 

Neither of them moved, for a time. They sat there regarding each other, digesting a little and feeling out the weight of the air. Julie could read Gill's body language well enough, the heat in her eyes and her cheeks, and she tried to make her own posture open and welcoming. She was definitely willing to explore whatever it was Gill was angling for with these looks and this wining and dining, but she wanted Gill to voice it, define its parameters, before she responded. This was Gill's home, after all, and Gill was the one who'd just ended her marriage. Julie wasn't going to do anything unless she took the lead. It had been twenty years since the last time they'd looked at each other like this, twenty years since Julie had even conceived of it as a possibility. She was more than willing to let things keep going along as they had been, if Gill chose not to push. 

Eventually, Gill rose from her seat. She picked up her bowl and came around the table to collect Julie's, and Julie thought she was going to clear the crockery away and the moment would pass and that would be that, but midway to reaching for Julie's bowl she set her own down on top of it instead.

"Julie," she whispered, voice aching with need, and Julie swiveled toward her, overcome by the sound of it; not just the tone but her _name_ spoken like that - Julie couldn't remember the last time Gill had called her anything but 'Slap'. Her face was similarly breathtaking when Julie looked up at her, expression all nervous desire.

She reached up and touched Julie's cheek, raked Julie's hair back with her fingers. "It's been a long time," she murmured. "I'm out of practice with all this. Will you celebrate with me?" Her thumb trailed over Julie's cheekbone. 

Julie smiled, reaching up to curl a hand around Gill's waist in a gesture of reassurance before she replied. "That depends. Do you mean just for tonight, or something more? Because I'm happy with the former, but I think you should have your rebound fling with someone else." 

Gill laughed. "Yeah, that probably would be a bad idea, trying that with you. You'd end up moved in and buying us a dog by Monday." Julie arched an eyebrow in mock offense, and Gill continued. "Just for tonight. Just this once."

Julie chuckled. "Well, I think that ship's sailed, unless we're doing more revisionist history."

"We probably shouldn't count those," Gill said. "I don't look like I did back then."

"Nor do I," Julie assured. "Kiss me," she added, reaching up to tug Gill down. 

Gill did, leaning down as Julie arched her back, and their lips met in a closed-mouthed but lingering kiss that felt both familiar and new. Gill's fingers tangled in Julie's hair, tugging her head back, and she leaned her forearms on Julie's shoulders and smiled down at her. "Your lips are still the same shape," she murmured. 

"I'm not sure if yours are," Julie murmured, sliding her hand around to the small of Gill's back and tugging her closer. "Might need to try again and see."

Gill grinned, leaning down again, hands fisting in Julie's hair, and this time Julie found herself thoroughly snogged. She couldn't move, between Gill's arms on her shoulders and the tight grip in her hair - although she tried, just a little, just enough to feel the pull against her scalp - couldn't do anything but surrender to Gill's mouth. The kiss was demanding, hot, and Julie found herself groaning into it, her fingers curling helplessly against Gill's back. When Gill pulled away, finally, teeth tugging at Julie's bottom lip as she did, Julie felt thoroughly devoured, slack-jawed and addled. 

"You haven't," Julie breathed, losing her words halfway through the thought and taking a moment to recover them, "haven't changed at all. Can still make me…" And she lost the sentence again, and laughed at herself.

"Glad to hear it," Gill replied, lips twisting up into a smug, teasing sort of smile, clearly drawing confidence from Julie's response. She twirled the ends of Julie's hair around her fingers. "Come to bed with me." She stepped back, letting one arm drop, the other extended in invitation.

Julie took it, allowing herself to be urged to her feet, but as soon as she was up she felt the need to regain some control, mostly over herself and her own responses. She tightened her grip on Gill's hand and tugged her forward, catching her about the waist again and pulling her close. Her fingers found their way under the back of Gill's top and onto her skin. Julie arched an eyebrow. "Does it have to be bed?" she asked, stepping forward and backing Gill up until she was pressed against the kitchen bench. She lowered her mouth to Gill's ear. "Here would work just fine." She nipped Gill's earlobe and felt Gill shiver against her.

"That is thoroughly unhygienic," Gill murmured, but made no move to pull away as Julie slid both hands round to cup her arse, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of it before lifting Gill up to sit on the benchtop. It brought them to eye level - made Gill slightly taller again, in fact - and they gazed at each other for a few moments, Julie's hands rubbing back and forth over the tops of Gill's thighs, which parted to welcome Julie closer.

So they were doing this again, were they? Julie's head fell to one side, mouth curling up as she appreciated the sensation of her mind and senses adjusting, taking Gill in not as the attractive but unavailable close friend she'd been for the last twenty years, but as a lover - or at least a friend who occasionally consented to being a lover for a night. Colour was rising in Gill's skin, turning her cheeks a rosy pink and creeping up her throat from beneath her collar. Her eyes were large, dark with arousal, and her lips parted. Her expression was focussed, deadly earnest, like it had been the first time they'd done this. 

Julie felt a smile tugging at her mouth, answering the honesty in Gill's expression. She blinked slowly, kept eye contact, reaching for the buttons of Gill's blouse and tugging them open, rolling each one between her fingers before she pulled it loose, taking her time to ensure each one _popped_. She said nothing as she worked the blouse down over Gill's shoulders and off, leaving her in her bra and skin rising to gooseflesh. Julie took her time again, then, dropping her gaze to rake over Gill's body - her small breasts daintily encased in white lace, the little swell of belly above the waistband of her jeans, her skin all flushed with colour. Like Julie, she'd softened a little in the years since they'd last done this - where once skin had sprung back after every movement, now there were little feathered lines along her creases, and faded stretch marks from pregnancy decorated her belly like pale tiger stripes. It was glorious, the story of her life written across her skin like that, and Julie couldn't resist reaching out to touch her, to feel the texture of her and the way she quivered, tender, beneath Julie's fingers.

"You're beautiful," she whispered, looking up at Gill's face again, certain that her reaction was obvious enough but thinking maybe Gill needed to hear that anyway, needed to know that being traded in for a younger model by her shit of a husband said more about his shallowness than it did about her desirability. 

" _Julie._ " Gill did it again, whispered her name like a prayer, and pulled her in for another kiss, hot and full of need. 

This was getting intense. It was perhaps a little too intense for something they'd agreed would be one night only, and when the kiss ended Julie pulled back with a view to lightening the mood again, moving things along. Her fingers slid up Gill's back to work the clasp of her bra undone, and she let her mouth drop down to Gill's throat. 

"Don't know why you bothered with all that cooking," Julie murmured, smiling as she kissed Gill's neck, tugged her bra open. "Not when you're such a delectable treat yourself." She slipped Gill's bra straps off her shoulders and tugged the garment away. 

Gill laughed, hands dropping to grip the edge of the bench after her bra fell away, arching her shoulders and pressing her bare breasts against Julie's clothed ones. "Got to do something to keep our stamina up; we're not young enough to go on alcohol and desire any more."

"Mm. Sounds like you've got quite a night planned." Julie's mouth resumed its attack on Gill's throat. One of her hands pressed again into the curve of Gill's back, urging that arch, the other working on the button of her jeans as she kissed her way down to Gill's collarbone, mouthing her way along it right to Gill's shoulder, then down around the curve of her breast.

"Well, not 'planned', exactly, but…" Gill's voice trailed off as Julie got her fly open and slipped her hand inside, wriggling down to cup her through knickers that were the same sort of lacy as her bra. 

Julie gave the side of Gill's breast another kiss before glancing up at her. "Say that again?" she asked, grinning, flexing her fingers inside Gill's jeans. 

Gill laughed, but shook her head. "Not planned. Considered, yes. But I didn't know if I'd be brave enough. Didn't know if you'd say yes. So not…" She let out a whine as Julie's finger found her wet and pressed right into it through her knickers "...planned."

"If you can make that sort of distinction," Julie said, getting her finger around the hem of Gill's knickers and dragging the fabric over her, "I'm clearly not doing my job properly. Time to up my game, I think."

Julie's free hand dropped to the waistband of Gill's jeans, pushing them down enough that they loosened around Gill's hips and gave her other hand a little more wiggle room. Gill shifted on the countertop, assisting, and Julie pulled her hand away just long enough to get it properly inside Gill's knickers.

"Mm," Julie murmured, feeling her way, the back of her hand straining against fabric even as her fingers sought out the slick shape of Gill's sex, felt her quiver and watched the answering response on her face, bottom lip bitten red and eyes blinking heavily. "Mm, I remember _this_. How much I like looking at you." Gill's fingers gripped the edge of the counter tight, she dropped her head back and arched her hips, pushing herself against Julie's hand and writhing. "My god, Slap," Julie breathed, blood beating hot at the sight of her. 

She dove back in. Capturing Gill's mouth, they shared a hot little kiss again, and then Julie was bending Gill back over the bench, kissing her way down throat again as she stroked, feeling Gill's thigh tremble against her hip as she nudged it open wider, mouthing across Gill's breasts, straining forward as her back arched, small and still pert for that, nipples offered up as perfect rosy mouthfuls. Julie took one, greedily sucking it into her mouth as she slipped two fingers into Gill's cunt and felt her hips arch off the bench, arms and thighs trembling as they supported her weight. Gill's breath was coming in moans, wavery and trembling, and Julie responded with an appreciative one of her own, muffled and vibrating around her mouthful of nipple. She could hear, too, the slick wet suck of Gill's cunt around her fingers, constrained by the fabric that bound her hand but somehow louder for that, plunging and curling and rocking, cradling Gill in her hand.

" _Julie,_ " Gill gasped. " _Yes, don't stop._ "

"Wouldn't dream of it," Julie managed, lifting her head for long enough to switch nipples, keeping up the movement of her hand as she left one nipple slick and glistening and gave her attention to the other, swirling her tongue around it before biting down lightly. Her unused hand, for some time clutched uselessly around the back of Gill's pants, she commanded to move, stroking Gill wherever she could reach - back, hip, up and down her arm, coming finally to fall atop Gill's own hand as her breath began to falter and Julie concentrated her efforts on bringing Gill off. She kept her fingers moving fast and steady, curved the heel of her palm so that it was grinding against Gill's clit. Gill's hips writhed, her breath came fast and shallow. Her hand twisted abruptly under Julie's, fingers grasping hers and squeezing tight, letting out a high pitched whine as she squirmed and shuddered against Julie's palm. 

Julie's hand rocked against Gill, carrying her through her climax and holding her after, flattening against her as all movement stilled and nothing remained but the the sound of their breathing. After a moment, she threaded her fingers through Gill's, lifting her head and using the grip on Gill's hand to tug her upright, out of the awkward semi-reclined position she'd ended up in. Gill came gratefully, allowing herself to be pulled upright, and when they were at eye-level again she sagged forward against Julie, letting her forehead rest against Julie's and curling a lazy arm around her shoulder. Julie eased her hand out of Gill's knickers and let it slide around her hip, and for a time they stayed like that, breathing and studying each other's eyelashes. 

When Gill had recovered, she pulled back, surveying Julie with heavy, sated eyes that were nonetheless still sparking with heat. "Now," she murmured, trailing a thumb over Julie's palm. "You're coming to bed with me."

"Bed?" Julie asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Settee's closer."

"Bed," Gill answered, adamant. "I want to reclaim it."

"Ah." Julie nodded in understanding. "Lead the way, then." Taking a step back, she helped Gill down off the bench, watched her legs wobble for a moment before she steadied herself. She tugged her jeans back up around her waist but left them open, and the rest of her clothing stayed where it lay discarded. Catching Julie's hand again, Gill tugged her towards the stairs. 

They made it to the bedroom in record time. As soon as they were through the doorway, Julie tugged Gill into her arms again, skating her hands over that bare skin and bending her head to capture Gill's mouth again. Gill's hands fisted in the fabric of Julie's t-shirt, responding hungrily to the kiss, but when Julie's fingers dipped beneath her waistband again, sliding down the curve of her arse, Gill pulled back. 

"Stop," she breathed, but there was a smile on her lips. "Stop spoiling me. It's been twenty years since I touched someone different; it's _my turn_." Her look was so intent, so focussed and full of desire, that Julie's hands fell away immediately. 

"All right," Julie whispered, and found that her voice was shaky. Gill smiled, feline and pleased, and twined the fabric of Julie's tshirt around her fist. Still smiling, she tugged Julie in the direction of the bed, and Julie followed her in a mindless stumble. Before they reached it, Gill turned them, pushing Julie down onto the covers. 

She went, catching Gill's hand on the way down to keep herself upright, to pull Gill closer. Gill reached for her top, getting fingers under it and tugging it up, and Julie lifted her arms and allowed herself to be undressed. Gill wasted no time removing Julie's bra, and Julie blessed that singular focus, because she'd certainly not worn the underwear she would have picked had she imagined it would be removed by someone else. Thus bared, Julie found herself looking up at Gill, having her t-shirt-mussed hair smoothed back and feeling surprisingly naked under Gill's gaze. 

She hadn't expected this. It hadn't been nearly as long for Julie since she'd been with someone new, and she wasn't generally a self-conscious person, but it had been a long time since _Gill_ had seen her. It was strange to remember that the only time they'd undressed each other, they'd been barely twenty. Julie hoped she lived up to the memory. 

Gill smiled down at her, running a tentative hand over her shoulder and down her arm, trailing a thumb over the sensitive crease at the inside of her elbow. "I remember you," she whispered, "just like this."

"Do you?" Julie asked, breath catching even as she made light of the comment. "I don't know if that's a compliment to my present self or an insult to my past."

Gill chuckled. "Not..." She trailed off. "None of that even matters, does it? Not like that. I mean open, just here with me and nowhere else. I've never known anyone as honest and present as you."

Julie smiled, said nothing. Couldn't; she was too full of this fragile hot feeling, heart swelling and breaking at the same time, because Gill should have had that always, should have had someone who would look at her like that every day, but Julie hadn't realised that she _was_. She wasn't sure what to do with that, now that she knew. So be it, she supposed, but it did feel - again - a little too intense for a one-time thing, for something she had told herself she could take or leave. It left her feeling vulnerable and itching for action to relieve it, but she'd promised to let Gill set the pace this time, could do nothing but ache and twitch inside these feelings that were warm but not entirely comfortable. 

Gill held her gaze, explored Julie's skin with both hands, stroking fingers over her throat and shoulders, trailing over her chest and down to palm her breasts, eyes alight with lust. Julie's blood felt thick and heavy, her skin ragged with sensation, and she shifted on the bed, squeezing her thighs together for a moment as all of it - the pleasure and the discomfort - coalesced in the throb of her cunt and a powerful need for the oblivion her body could offer her.

" _Slap,_ " she whispered, voice gravelly.

" _Julie,_ " Gill replied. 

Gill urged Julie back on the bed, reaching for her waistband and tugging at it, working both trousers and knickers off with Julie's assistance. Tossing them aside, she shed her own, then seemed to think of something.

"Wait just a moment," she said, and darted over to the dresser. Julie, limbs warm and heavy, took the moment to collect herself and shift further up the bed, finding a comfortable position amongst the pillows and watching as Gill took the lid off a heavy jar candle, then tipped it sideways and lit it with a lighter conveniently placed beside. "I bought this today," she said, glancing over her shoulder at Julie as she righted the jar. "Supposed to be cleansing. Seems appropriate."

Julie grinned, lounging against a pillow and arching a brow. "And you didn't plan any of this," she said, deeply unconvinced.

Gill laughed. "I really didn't. I mean it," she added, catching Julie's expression, then opening the top drawer of the dresser. "I actually bought this, too. First time I've ever owned one. _That_ was my real plan for reclaiming the bedroom." She looked a little shy, holding a vibrator in her hand - a small sleek thing with a curved tip and a pair of rabbit ears. "Light a candle and spend some quality time with Celeste here."

Julie's smile broadened. "Well, bring her over here," she said. "I don't mind a threesome, long as you're okay with sharing."

Gill looked up, surprise written in her eyebrows. Clearly, it had never occurred to her that a sex toy could be used in bed with a partner. She adjusted quickly, though, covering the surprise with a smile. "I don't mind," she murmured, turning positively wicked as she came back to bed - naked and confident with the little thing in her hand - right into Julie's waiting arms. 

They didn't use the toy immediately. Gill let it fall onto the covers beside them as she focussed her attention on exploring Julie with her hands and mouth, getting her on her back and demonstrating that eagerness to touch with a determination that was almost torturous. She stroked and nibbled and sucked at Julie's skin, seeming to delight in every gasp and moan and growl she dragged from Julie, grinning and dipping her head in for more when she was particularly pleased with a noise Julie made. She wouldn't let Julie reciprocate, either, caught her wrist when she reached out and pinned it to the bed, and Julie felt helpless and wild as an aggressor cowed, writhing and aching and so needy it scared her.

An aggressor. She didn't usually think of herself like that, and perhaps it was the wrong word. Less aggressive than giving, she supposed - as much as she could suppose about anything when Gill's mouth was wrapped around her nipple and fingers were teasing against her thighs - but over the years she had fallen more often than not into the role of giver. She was taller and broader than most of her partners had been, and often had a more authoritative personality, and so it had come to feel rather natural. She took a great deal of pleasure from it, too, in taking care of her lovers, but Gill didn't know how much a part of her that had become, and Gill hadn't had to negotiate roles with anyone for a very long time and so was simply doing what felt natural and right to _her_. It felt good to be this spoiled - Christ, did it feel good - but it set her nerves electric with tension as well as need; there was something quite vulnerable about feeling so desperate.

She looked down at Gill, hot little mouth pressing kisses against her stomach, one hand toying with her nipple. She could feel Gill's hair tickling her, watched the lines of her throat flex as she mouthed her way up Julie's breastbone, and it was too much. Julie's head was spinning, her skin afire. Her nipple was rock hard and aching between Gill's fingers and her hips were writhing against the bed, desperate for Gill to touch her where it mattered. 

"Slap," Julie hissed, breathless, borrowing a phrase she'd never forget, "can you get on with it, maybe?"

Gill lifted her head and grinned. "Don't think I've forgotten how much of an awful tease you were the last time we did this," she murmured, pressing a kiss against the nipple her fingers weren't teasing. "What's good for the goose..."

"Ancient history," Julie breathed, squirming. " _Please_ , Gill." She couldn't take any more. 

Gill must have seen the genuine desperation in Julie's face, because she relented. "All right." She reached over to retrieve the vibrator from where she'd dropped it, flicked it on, then stretched herself out over Julie's body, knees straddling one leg as she nudged the other open wide, holding herself up with a hand above Julie's shoulder as the other worked the toy down between her thighs. 

Julie groaned as the toy touched her, as Gill slid the steadily vibrating tip of it along her slick, aching flesh. Her eyes fluttered closed and she pressed her head back into the pillow; she felt Gill's mouth catch hers and swallow her moan as the toy filled her. 

Things blurred, then. Julie's head spun, she arched arched her hips and groaned. Gill worked the toy in and out, at first slowly, uncertain. Julie growled appreciatively, curling a hand up to clutch at Gill's back, and responding to her urging, Gill pushed deeper, faster, gaining confidence. 

" _Yess,_ " Julie whispered, "like that, yes, just like that." 

Gill's hand worked and Julie pushed back against her, squeezing tight around the vibrating shaft and feeling the hum of the rabbit ears against her clit. Her mouth fell open and she could hear her breath coming fast and heavy. She opened her eyes to the sight of Gill watching her, expression both feral and wondrous. 

"Are you going to come for me?" she asked, a smile on her face, shoulder flexing as her hand worked the toy, flicking her head to toss the hair from her face. Her cheeks were flushed, lips parted; she looked almost as wild as Julie felt. "You look beautiful. Come. I want to see you." She angled the toy up, pressing that vibrating tip against Julie's g-spot. "Come for me, Julie."

It was her name that did it; the twist of intense and vulnerable that kicked in her gut at the sound sent her flying over the edge. Julie cried out, jerking, cunt clenching tight around the vibrator and thighs pinning Gill's wrist, eyes rolling back in her head and spinning, spinning, clamped fast to Gill while she burned. 

Hot. Hot and trembling, she was, when her senses returned. Boneless, she lolled on the bed, eyes opening to find Gill smiling at her. She'd slipped the vibrator out and let it fall aside onto the covers, but she pressed herself close, stretching her naked body out along Julie's and smoothing the hair away from Julie's sweat-damp brow.

She wore a small, satisfied smile. "I'd almost forgotten that," she whispered, once Julie's eyes swiveled to meet hers. "What that looked like. What you look like, when you let go." Her finger traced Julie's hairline.

That smile was far too gentle. The look in Gill's eyes was too warm, too close to loving for what this was. It was an obvious transference of the gratitude Gill felt for Julie's role in the last few weeks of her life into this new context, but now that Julie was relaxed and exhausted after her climax, she was able to regain her own equilibrium, and a bit of perspective.

She smiled, fingers sliding up Gill's back. "Soppy cow. So, do you think you did it? Effectively reclaimed the bed?"

"Mm," Gill murmured, trailing a hand down over Julie's stomach to her hip. "Definitely. You wash everything away."

Bloody hell. She really was feeling affectionate, wasn't she? "Gill," Julie whispered, "you do remember that I'm going home tomorrow, don't you?" She let her hand smooth over the curve of Gill's back in a gesture of reassurance, but she wanted to make sure they were on the same page. 

"I know," Gill replied, smile turning a little sad. "I sort of wish you didn't have to." Her fingers traced a pattern on Julie's hipbone. 

"I think that's the rebound talking," Julie murmured, quirking a brow. "That or the afterglow."

"Maybe," Gill answered, resting her cheek on Julie's shoulder. "But still."

"There is no 'but' while you're on the rebound," Julie said, planting a kiss on Gill's forehead. "I'm going home in the morning."

She would, and she knew she was right to. Even so, Gill's words warmed her, and her resolve didn't stop her from curling her arm protectively around Gill's body and enjoying the contact while it lasted. 

The candle burned steady in its jar on the dresser, flame like a tiny beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge that the prawn in Dave's trousers thing is a detail from Cath Staincliffe's tie-in Scott & Bailey novels. I loved it and so gleefully stole it, but since I know not everyone is familiar with the books, don't want to claim it as my own :).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content Info:** This chapter is set in the direct aftermath of 3x08, and as such contains some discussion of trauma and suicide.

**iv.**

Julie is definitely a little drunk. She knows she must be because for the last half an hour she's been on the dance floor with Mary, and that is not a place that a sober Superintendent Dodson would ever find herself. Not in front of half a department's worth of junior officers, at any rate. But someone's filled the jukebox playlist with 70s and 80s hits, and every time they're about to take a breather another favourite comes on and keeps them there for _just one more song_.

When finally a tune comes on that they don't know, they take the opportunity for a break, lurching off the dance floor. 

"Time for another shot?" Julie asks, as Mary catches her by the shoulder to steady herself. 

"Absolutely!" 

They sway their way over to the bar. "So," says Mary as they plant their elbows on it, looking at Julie with the kind of serious expression worn only by the very young or the very drunk, "if no one else is going to say it, I will."

"Of _course_ you will," Julie says, levelling her gaze at her friend. Mary's even more renowned for her bluntness than Julie is. "What?" She arches a brow.

"This." Mary waves her hands around. "All of this. This retirement thing. It's a bad idea. Trauma response. She'll regret it."

_Oh._ Julie swallows. That. She nods and shakes her head all in the same gesture. "Maybe. I don't know." She's been trying not to think about it: the drinking, the lying, how and why she missed it or allowed herself to be taken in.

" _Bollocks_ ," Mary says, entirely too loudly. The people either side of them at the bar turn to look at her. "Of course you know. Or you have an _opinion_. You were there. And you and her, I mean..."

Julie leans in close, catching Mary's waving hand and pressing her mouth right up to other woman's ear. "Lady, if you don't stop talking _right now_ , I am going to break your glorious doctor fingers." She articulates clearly, carefully, giving Mary's hand a squeeze. She doesn't mean it, of course, but it's enough to penetrate the alcohol-induced fog that's clouded Mary's brain. 

" _Ohhh,_ " Mary's voice drops to a murmur as her face takes on a knowing expression. "Like that, is it?"

"Yes," Julie answers.

The mirth falls away from Mary as she finally realises that Julie isn't sharing her amusement. "Oh." She knows more about Gill and Julie's history than anyone else in this pub. 

"Yeah," says Julie. "It's complicated. And maybe you're right, about this being a response. And maybe it won't make everything better. But that doesn't mean it's the wrong decision. I don't know. I don't feel like my opinion is even slightly objective, so it seems better not to have one." 

It's going to be strange, even sad, to no longer have the job in common with Gill. They've been in it together for so long, sharing ambitions and stories, attending department functions and officer training, that the sudden loss of that feels a bit like grief. On the other hand, Gill won't have her reputation to be worried about anymore, but Julie's not sure if that isn't too little, too late. She sighs.

"What?" Mary asks, eyeing her. 

"Nothing," Julie says, and Mary's eyebrows lift skeptically. "I'll tell you sometime when we're not so pissed. Speaking of, where's our next shot?" She raises her voice on the last, and the barman clocks her from where he's handing over two pints to another customer. As soon as they've paid, he moves over to her and Mary. 

"What'll it be this time, ladies?"

"Something with gin," Julie says, thinking of a green bottle on a bedside table. 

"Ooh!" Mary leans in. "I know one! Half gin and half blackberry brandy. Can you do that?" 

"I surely can," the barman says, grinning. He turns to grab the necessary bottles off the shelf, pops two glasses on the bar and pours their drinks with a flourish. "And a house ale and a merlot?" he checks, then turns to get them when Julie nods. 

Mary picks up her glass. "You know what they call this one?" 

"What?" Julie responds, reaching for her own.

There's a twinkle in Mary's eye when she replies: "A 'devastating body rocker'."

Julie snorts, laughing helplessly. There's only one problem with being a cop - all of the friends she surrounds herself with are damn near omniscient. "You fucking bitch," she chuckles, raising the glass. "Cheers."

Mary smirks. "Cheers." She taps her glass against Julie's, then they both down their shots.

~*~

Gill had tasted of gin that night.

It took Julie hours to get to the party. Activating the Red Centre always meant piles of paperwork, and when the reason was the abduction of a fellow officer and the end result a death in custody, then the person in charge had the pleasure of an endless interview with Karen Zalinski. By the time the evening was over, Julie had repeated every detail both on paper and verbally, justified every decision at least three different ways, and felt alternately naked and as though she were going to crawl out of her skin.

She needed to see Gill. All afternoon she'd watched that car on the highway, knowing Gill was alive and conscious only because it kept moving more inexorably toward danger. Julie had been in charge, allegedly, but nothing had felt less like control than directing a dozen armed officers around a car that held both her best friend and an unpredictable, traumatised woman wielding a knife. She'd seen the end, of course, Gill fragile and shaken on the edge of a cliff - a cliff that, for one awful moment, Julie had imagined Gill falling over the side of, disoriented and completely by accident, a horrible cosmic joke played by an unfeeling universe.

But no. Gill had survived, and with minimal intervention from the Red Centre, in the end. She was alive. Julie had seen it on the monitor, had wiped those tears of relief away before her team could see, before she descended into paperwork and interrogation hell, but she needed to _know_. Needed to reach out and touch her and reaffirm not just Gill's existence but her own - Gill was alive and Julie was human, not some panicking petty god watching from afar and cursing the unpredictability of giving people free will. 

She registered almost nothing about the party. She said hello to Sammy, that much she was sure of, but by the time she reached the top of the stairs she couldn't remember if she'd just had a drink and stood shaking for half an hour or if she'd barely been inside five minutes. 

There were murmured voices behind Gill's bedroom door. Julie's first sense was one of relief that Gill wasn't alone, quickly followed by a vague unease. Who was in there with her, and how much would be written all over Julie's face as soon as she opened the door? Julie felt rattled enough without baring herself to some friend of Gill's she hardly knew. She listened for a moment - the door was slightly ajar - and heard a voice that sounded very much like it belonged to Janet Scott. 

Well. That was… Julie wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but Janet at least would understand. Julie wouldn't have to feel strange about her obvious need in front of someone who had been there. Even so, she took a moment to compose herself properly before she knocked and opened the door. When she did, she discovered that Rachel Bailey was in the room too - both of them sitting on the edge of Gill's bed, all three looking like the survivors of a battle. 

She was right at home here, then. "Evening, ladies," she greeted them as she stepped through the door. "You would not _believe_ the day I've had."

Janet and Rachel turned toward her. A wry half-smile twisted Janet's mouth up, and Rachel looked like she usually did when in close quarters with Julie - equal parts wary and belligerent. She seemed as though she couldn't quite decide whether Julie was serious or not, and was ready to jump to Gill's defense if she decided it was necessary, chain-of-command and potential promotions be damned. But Gill - to whom Julie's eyes shifted as soon as she'd given the other two a cursory glance - laughed, lifting a hand in greeting.

"Hiya, Slap." Her fingers curled, beckoning Julie over. 

Real. She was real - a bit battered, a bit teary and apparently a bit drunk, but real. And safe now. Julie's feet carried her over to the bed without a second thought, and she joined Rachel and Janet in perching there, taking the remaining space beside Gill at the top of the bed. As she sat, she couldn't help but reach for Gill, touching the back of her hand for just a moment before pulling away. Real, the both of them. 

"Someone should go tell Sammy that the party's actually up here," Gill said with a tired smile. 

"Mm," Julie murmured. "The lesbian's arrived and joined three other women in the bedroom. That'd get 'em up here." She glanced at Janet, who chuckled, and Rachel, who smiled but glanced down at the rings on Julie's hand, apparently confused, then returned her gaze to Gill. "All right?" she asked, and Gill nodded. 

"I'll live," she said. "Which is more than I could say for sure a few times today, so." Her hand crept up toward her throat, where a reddish-purple bruise mottled her skin, then pulled away abruptly. "Sorry about the paperwork."

"Slap..." Julie whispered, but cut herself off. She wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to say, but whatever it was, she wasn't going to say it with an audience. 

All of them seemed to have lost their voices. Julie wasn't sure if it was the Superintendent Effect, or if the conversation had been winding down anyway, but the next few moments were silent. It was comradely rather than awkward, a collective sigh of relief that seemed complete now that Julie was here. All four of them had pulled together today, done everything they could, and together they'd managed to ensure Gill got out safe. Julie studied the duvet cover under her hand, thumb smoothing it idly, and felt the room breathe. 

"Thank you," she said eventually, glancing up at Rachel and Janet, "both of you. For everything you did today."

"Just our jobs, ma'am," Rachel said, looking uncomfortable.

Julie nodded, conceding the point. She wasn't usually in the habit of thanking people for doing their jobs. "All the same, there was nothing routine about what I asked you do today, so."

Rachel nodded, and Janet glanced at Gill, smoothed her hands over her lap. "Well," she said, "I didn't actually say hello to Sammy, or tell him congratulations, so I should probably do that. You going to come and be introduced, gatecrasher?" She nudged Rachel. 

"Yeah, okay," Rachel said, sliding off the bed. "You take it easy, boss."

"Mm," Janet murmured, glancing at Julie as she rose. "Try and convince her to take a few days off, won't you? She might listen to you." Janet glanced again at Gill, sharing a significant sort of look with her, then they slipped out the door and tugged it closed behind them.

"I hope you will," Julie heard herself saying, turning toward Gill as they were left alone. "Because I've begged off being on call for the weekend, so it'll make me look like a right arse if you go straight back to work."

Gill didn't respond, staring at her. When she did speak, it was to whisper: "I need a hug." Her voice was small and broken. 

"Oh, _Gill._ "

She lurched forward and Julie twisted further onto the bed, caught her and wrapped her up. Tugging her close, Julie felt Gill's hands fist in the back of her jacket, and Gill's head came to rest in the crook of her shoulder. It was an awkward embrace, both of their bodies twisted strangely, but neither of them seemed willing to let go. Julie's hand found the back of Gill's head and stroked her hair, and she felt Gill shaking against her - not crying but shaking, gently at first but then uncontrollably, as though she'd been holding it back all afternoon. Trying to be an untouchable rock, no doubt - totally fine and all ready for Sammy's party.

"Shh," Julie whispered, eyes prickling. "You're okay. You're here, you're alive, it's over." She found herself rocking, murmuring nonsense noises into Gill's hair and ignoring the hot tears that leaked unbidden from her eyes. Gill was here and so was she, alive and real and finally, finally able to actually _do_ something. She curled her shoulders in, tried to enfold Gill. She'd always been larger, but Gill hadn't seemed as tiny as she did now for a very long time.

"I knew it was you," Gill whispered, eventually. Her voice was muffled against Julie's shirt. "When it was Janet on the phone. Knew you were there with me."

"I hoped you'd get to hear her voice," Julie replied. "And Helen trusted her."

"She…" Gill breathed, and her voice broke on a shudder. "I've never known someone who wanted to die before. Her eyes…"

"I know," Julie murmured, remembering. She had. An ex of hers had tried, once, and Julie remembered the awful hollow look she'd had when she failed. Julie, like Gill, had seen a lot of death, but it wasn't even close to the same as looking into the eyes of someone who wanted it so badly.

"I made such a terrible mistake," Gill choked, and now there were tears. Julie could feel the warm wet of them soaking through her shirt.

"It's not your fault," Julie whispered, gut twisting. God, that case. They'd disagreed so fundamentally on Helen Bartlett's culpability, Julie seeing a traumatised victim where Gill had seen something else - someone dishonest, out to save herself. They'd argued about it at the time, Julie furious with Gill for the fact that she couldn't see, that she hadn't been able to understand how deep a person's trauma could run. She'd had no frame of reference and so had been incapable of empathy, and at the time Julie had wished, in her frustration, that Gill wasn't so privileged and blind to suffering.

It felt like a terrible sort of irony now. 

"I couldn't _do_ anything," Gill said, and wriggled in Julie's arms like her skin was crawling. "She was, and the belt was, and I…" She tugged herself free of their embrace, pulling back and rolled her shoulders. Her skin, Julie noticed, had risen to gooseflesh, but she didn't get the chance to notice anything else because then Gill was kissing her.

Stunned, it took Julie a moment to respond, a long moment with Gill's lips crashed against hers before she managed to get a hand between them and pull away.

"Gill." Julie's hand gripped Gill's shoulder. She stared at her friend - eyes wild and dark, chest heaving, skin all prickles - and had no idea what was going on. "What are you doing?"

Gill's chin straightened. "Kissing you," she said, looking somehow defiant.

"Why?" Julie asked. It didn't seem like quite the time for kissing.

"Because I need…" Gill began, then broke off, looking frustrated and desperate. She pressed forward again, as though that was enough for another kiss, but Julie held her back.

"Gill," Julie said again, short and adamant, and watched as it had the effect she wanted. Gill sat back, seemed to anchor herself. "Take a breath," Julie said, and Gill did. 

When Julie was satisfied that Gill wasn't about to attack her again, she released her shoulder. Dropping her hand, Julie caught Gill's wrist instead, circling it gently and letting her palm rest against Gill's. 

"It's all right," she said. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. But you can't just be kissing me like that, not tonight anyway." Julie offered a small smile, searching for the right words. "You've been through a lot today, seen a lot. And you've been drinking. I'm..." She hesitated, uncertain of herself and her boundaries, but deciding that they'd built up enough trust over the years for her to make Gill an open offer. "I'm here for you, whatever you need, but I'm going to need you to articulate it clearly so that I know you've thought about it, and so that I don't make any mistakes assuming."

Gill nodded, sat there on the bed looking small and shaken. The grey cardigan she'd thrown on over her party dress had fallen down off one shoulder, and the dress itself was twisted around her. She didn't seem to notice any of it.

"I feel like I'm only half here," she said, after a time, voice quiet and distant, eyes unfocused. "Like part of me went with her after all." She flexed her fingers up to touch Julie's wrist. "Hand feels real. You feel real, but everything else is sort of...blurry at the edges. Far away. I need…" Gill's breath rattled in and out of her. "I felt so out of control today, even though I was driving. I wonder what being kidnapped must feel like; being grabbed and bound, I mean. To be completely powerless but know there's nothing you can do until someone cuts the ropes. It was a strange sort of thing, driving but not being allowed to stop. In control but not. Think I'll have nightmares about that." She shuddered, looked up at Julie, seemed to focus herself again. "I need to take my body back, need to feel like I'm here again, inside my own skin. Need to be touched. Will you…?"

"All right," Julie heard herself say, even though it probably wasn't the best idea in the world.

They hadn't, not since that night after Dave went. Even in the wake of Gill's affection afterwards, Julie had done exactly what she'd said she would do: gone home. In the aftermath, though, she had found herself wondering if Gill had meant what she'd said; even hoping that, given time, she might come back and say it again. She hadn't, though. She'd gone a few years with no romantic life to speak of, raising her son and getting to know herself again, and then she'd finally had her rebound fling with the toy boy from the NPIA. Julie had been happy for her when she'd heard about it - even though her hearing about it had been secondhand - but she'd been mildly disappointed as well. Not enough to make a fuss - she wasn't going to hold Gill to some affectionate words spoken post-orgasm only a fortnight after her separation, especially not when 'just tonight' had been Julie's caveat in the first place - but she had hoped that they might have that conversation if they ever ended up in bed together again. Tonight, though, was clearly not the right time for that.

But Julie couldn't say no to Gill's need. "C'm'ere, then," she said, tugging on Gill's wrist.

This time, when Gill kissed her, Julie didn't pull away. Gill's lips were salty but her mouth tasted of gin, and Julie's hand slipped up Gill's arm as they kissed, releasing her wrist to trail fingertips lightly up her forearm. It was all she could do bar leaning in - her right arm was holding her up and her position on the bed was still awkward enough that she wasn't sure she wouldn't fall over if she reached out with it. Instead, she pressed herself forward, stretching up, forcing Gill to cant her head back to keep in contact. It was a long kiss, gentle and exploratory, the kind that felt like a negotiation. Gill was shaky at first, nervous and needy, but when Julie took charge she seemed to relax. This, Julie supposed, was an articulation of its own. 

Gill's eyelashes fluttered when they finally broke for air. She did not completely open her eyes. "Touch me," she whispered, hanging there with her head tipped back. 

"Going to have to move first," Julie murmured, stroking Gill's wrist.

She shed her jacket, kicked off her shoes, hung the former from the corner of the bedside table and hoped it would stay there. "C'me'ere," she said again, rolling onto her side once she'd rearranged herself into a more comfortable position and opening her arms for Gill. Gill came to her, settling in close, and Julie cupped her cheek with one hand and kissed her again, thumb stroking the underside of her chin. 

"All right?" Julie asked, when she broke away, searching Gill's eyes as her thumb moved lower, down in the direction of Gill's throat. "How's your neck?" She stopped short of touching it.

"I…" Gill whispered, and shivered. "Yeah, hurts a bit. Feels...strange. Maybe don't touch me there just yet."

"Okay," Julie replied, hand stilling. "Any other no-go zones?" 

"No," Gill said, catching Julie's hand and guiding it down to her breast. "Just touch me. And kiss me some more. Please."

Julie did, spreading her palm out where Gill had laid it and cupping Gill's breast in her hand. The dress she wore was thick and silky, slippery under Julie's touch as she smoothed her thumb over it to find Gill's nipple through the fabric. Gill murmured her approval as Julie leaned forward to kiss her again. 

Julie took her time, sliding her hand over Gill's hip and side, stroking her belly, curling around her to caress her back. In the absence of a throat to kiss she moved her mouth down along Gill's jawline, up to her temples, kissed her forehead and her eyelids and the tip of her nose. Gill didn't respond much at first, except to make encouraging noises, but as Julie's hands repeated their motions she seemed to revive, arching into the touches as a blush rose on her cheeks and chest. It felt like a resuscitation, and it answered a need in Julie as well, filled her up with relief and longing. She could feel Gill's heart beating and she'd never needed anything more. 

"How's that?" Julie asked, kissing the spot just below Gill's ear. "You with me?" It occurred to her that this might be all Gill wanted, some snogging and a bit of heavy petting to bring her back. She'd said 'touch me', after all, not 'fuck me'. 

Gill opened her eyes. "I am," she murmured. "More every minute." She slipped her own hand onto Julie's waist and tugged at the shirt tucked into her trousers. "Want to feel your skin, though. Take these off and undress me."

Well, that was harder to misinterpret. Julie complied, sitting up so she could unbutton and shrug out of her shirt, shed her bra. She unbuckled her belt and moved to the edge of the bed to shimmy her pants off. It felt a little exposing, taking her clothes off while Gill was still fully dressed, and while the pounding bass of some song under the floorboards reminded her of the dozens of people downstairs and the lack of lock on Gill's bedroom door. But it was a mild discomfort, really, and it far better for Julie to feel vulnerable in this moment than Gill. 

Gill didn't seem to mind Julie's nakedness at all. She'd pushed herself up as Julie undressed, and now her fingers found Julie's back, drawing a hot little trail from beneath her shoulder blade to the curve of her backside. The touch sent a spark racing after it that curled up warmly inside Julie, and when she turned back to undress Gill she felt it tingling in her fingers. 

The cardigan went quickly, slipped off and dropped off the side of bed, and with it gone Julie kissed a bared shoulder, slipping a hand around Gill's back to unzip her dress, then tugging its strap down with her teeth. Julie smiled as she lifted her head, sliding two fingers across the back of Gill's opposite shoulder to pull the other strap down in a more conventional way, and she studied Gill's face again as her fingers traced circles on the bare skin she'd exposed - there was no bra under that thick fabric. Gill met her gaze, smiled back at her, fragile but present.

"I think we should get under the covers," Julie said, letting her touch answer Gill's by trailing down her bare back. "Just in case one of Sammy's mates thinks he's stumbling into the bathroom."

Gill blinked as though she'd forgotten there was a party going on downstairs, as though she'd forgotten anything else existed. "That probably would… Yeah," she said, and let out a little breath of laughter. 

Julie helped Gill up, turned the duvet back and slipped beneath it while Gill shimmied out of her dress and knickers. Holding the covers aloft, she waited until Gill had joined her beneath them before settling the duvet down. Gill paused as she made herself comfortable, took a long look at Julie, then reached for the lamp and very deliberately turned the lights out.

"It's you," Gill said, after they'd wriggled down in the dark.

"It's me," Julie replied, threading her fingers into Gill's hair and kissing her.

In the dark there was nothing but feeling. Once her eyes adjusted, Julie could make out the dim outline of Gill's face, her eyes an occasional gleam in the shadows, but everything else was left to touch. Their legs tangled together, Julie sliding her calf against Gill's, wrapping her up and holding her with long legs. Her hands explored again, re-travelling the places she had before in the absence of clothes, feeling her way along the silky-soft skin of breast and belly and down to cup a hip, sliding her hand down the outside of thigh and feeling the light tickle of hair against her palm. She shifted under the sheets, rolling on top of Gill and letting a tent form above her as she shimmied down, mouth seeking, sightless. She found a shoulder to kiss, a nipple to tongue, the inside of an elbow to nibble, and when Gill reached for her, a wrist and five lovely fingers to suck. She could feel Gill twitching, could feel her skin radiating heat, could hear her but only dimly, her voice muffled by the covers and blended in with the background noise of the music downstairs. It felt illicit somehow, like this, secret and thrilling, and as she kissed her way across Gill's belly she almost forgot what had brought them here, full of heat and need of her own.

She remembered in time, caught herself before she got too carried away, kissing her way back up Gill's body again until her head popped out above the covers. She hovered over Gill, sought out the shape of her face in the gloom, let her fingers trail up the inside of a thigh but paused at the apex, tracing a pattern on the soft, damp skin.

"All right?" she whispered. "Is this…?"

The exasperated sigh she got in response was pure Gill. She felt fingers tangle into her hair. "Will you stop asking permission?" Gill whispered, sharp. "Stop second-guessing. I trust you, Julie. Don't hold back." And she pulled Julie down for another kiss, hot and demanding.

It was like opening the floodgates. That word meant a lot, coming from Gill. Julie knew it in her bones, the trust they had in each other, but to hear Gill say it - Gill, who'd had her trust betrayed dozens of times over by the man she married, who carried suspicion around with her in her pocket every day, saw the culpability in everyone - was another thing entirely. Julie was suddenly desperate to live up to it, kissed Gill back with that same demanding heat, hand shifting sideways to press her palm into Gill's cunt.

Julie felt Gill arch beneath her, ground her hand down, swallowing Gill's moans as she worked her fingers, spreading Gill's wet until her palm was slick with it. Their kiss broke on Gill's whimper as her head arched back, and Julie found the next bit of available skin and fixed her mouth there, sucking at the line of Gill's jaw. Her hand ground into Gill, but it didn't feel enough, not tonight. Not for what she wanted, not for what Gill had asked for. Shifting, Julie pulled her hand away, curling it around one of Gill's thighs instead and planting a knee between them, leaning forward and pulling Gill up to meet her. She found that slick heat with her own thigh and pressed into it, stretching herself out above Gill and thrusting forward. 

In the dark, everything blurred into sensation. Julie's mouth moved along Gill's jaw, her free hand curled around the back of a shoulder. Her fingers gripped the back of Gill's thigh as she moved, holding fast. Gill's heat was everywhere, their skin pressed close; Julie felt their breasts flatten against each other, nipples rubbing. Gill's breath came fast and shallow but she wriggled a hand between them, fingers seeking out Julie's clit and pressing against it, letting Julie's momentum do the work. Julie's thighs burned with effort, but with Gill's fingers there she pushed forward greedily, grinding on them even as she drove herself against Gill.

Julie felt Gill's thighs clench around hers, felt her pushing back as she started to twitch. Julie moved faster, groaning against Gill's skin as the friction brought her closer as well, as her head spun away and left her with nothing but motion. She felt Gill break with a whimper and hitching breath, pushed harder, aching and desperate. It didn't take her long with the sound of Gill's climax in her ears, her fingers twitching with it, jerking against Julie's clit. Julie shuddered, spun, giving a few final thrusts against Gill's hand before she collapsed exhausted, her head dropping into the crook of Gill's shoulder. 

They were still for a long time, neither moving, both recovering their breath. When Julie stirred, it was only to pull her arm up and plant her elbow on the bed, letting it take some of her weight so Gill didn't have to. She shifted her chin - Gill's necklace was digging into her cheek - and only realised as she did that that was because her face had been pressed up against the no-go zone of Gill's throat.

"Sorry," she whispered, moving it away. "Lost my head."

"Hm?" Gill murmured, then made a noise of understanding. "It's actually okay, I think? Would you... Would you kiss it?"

"Mm," Julie purred, "gladly." She slipped her fingers into Gill's hair, gently tugged her head back, then pressed the lightest of kisses against her neck. When there was no shudder or protest, she dropped another, continuing until she'd left a ring of them right around Gill's throat. "All better?" she asked, lifting her head. 

Gill murmured her approval. "They should make you a doctor. A specialist in kissing it better."

Julie chuckled, finally mustering the energy to shift her weight properly, catching Gill's waist as she rolled onto her side and pulling her along. "Think I'd have a bit of a limited list of potential patients," she said, smiling in the dark.

"Exclusive," Gill countered, sliding a hand onto Julie's hip. Her thumb stroked idly back and forth there. After a moment, she spoke again. "Thank you for this. For tonight. For listening to me."

"How do you feel now?" Julie asked, fingers grazing Gill's side again. 

"Present," Gill answered, "back in control. For now, anyway."

"Good," Julie replied, relieved it had worked and glad that Gill recognised that it might not be permanent. 

"Exhausted, too," Gill added. Her voice took on a hint of need again when she asked: "Will you stay?" 

"Of course," Julie said, smiling again. "Got to be somewhere Zalinski can't hunt me down and make me sign another form." Gill laughed, and Julie tapped her hip. "Come on, we should sleep. Want to be my little spoon?"

"Mm, yes," Gill replied. "Any time." She shifted, and they lost contact for a moment as they both made themselves more comfortable, Julie pulling a pillow beneath her head and Gill straightening the covers over both of them. A moment later, though, Gill curled back in against Julie's body, and Julie wrapped an arm around her middle and kissed her shoulder. 

"I'm here," Gill whispered, a mantra in the dark, "and so are you."

"You're here," Julie affirmed, holding her close. "And so am I." She closed her eyes and let the world vanish, leaving everything behind except the feel of Gill's skin against hers, both of them warm and real.

*

They slept soundly until just before sunrise, when Julie woke to Gill thrashing in the sheets. "I can't," she was saying, breathless and panicked, kicking at the covers. "Get it off me!"

" _Gill_ ," Julie hissed, reaching for her shoulder to give her a shake. "Gill, wake up." 

As soon as Julie touched her she shuddered awake, eyes flying open. She was breathing hard, eyes frightened and disoriented, so Julie held onto her shoulder and whispered to her. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You were dreaming. You're safe in your bed. I'm here, you're okay, you're safe." She traced a thumb over Gill's shoulder, lay there watching her in the grey dawn light as her eyes took on focus and her breathing slowed. "You're okay," she repeated, once Gill's senses seemed to have returned. "You back with me?"

"Mmf," Gill groaned, reaching up with one hand to scrub at her eye. "Yeah. That was…" She shuddered, and Julie could feel her skin had risen to gooseflesh again.

"C'm'ere," she said, offering her arms once more. They'd slipped apart in sleep, but now Gill shifted gratefully and snuggled up against her again. Julie smoothed Gill's hair, rubbed her shoulder, slid an arm around her middle to hold her close. "You're okay," she whispered again.

"Don't want to go back to sleep," Gill murmured, clutching at Julie's arm. "Not yet. It's all waiting there, I feel it. Talk to me?"

"About what?" Julie asked, thumb stroking Gill's belly. 

"Anything," Gill whispered. "Not work. Tell me about horses, or what you got up to at Hogwarts, or wherever. Just tell me a story."

"Hmm," Julie murmured, kissing Gill's shoulder to buy herself time, wracking her brain for an anecdote Gill didn't already know. School was a good topic, one she didn't talk about much, even to Gill. There weren't many police who'd grown up with families wealthy enough to send them to private school, so the fact that Julie had attended one - which Gill insisted upon calling by everything other than its real name, always referring to it as Hogwarts or St Trinian's, Malory Towers or The Chalet School - was something she tended to keep close to her chest. There were definitely tales she had never told Gill, but of course, put on the spot, she couldn't think of a single one.

"I was a terrible student," she said, talking anyway, just filling the silence with her voice. "I didn't _perform_ badly because I had a pretty good memory for dates and facts, but I just didn't care about most of it, so I was lazy, and I had a smart mouth too."

" _You?_ " Gill asked, a smile in her voice. "I can't imagine."

Julie chuckled and gave Gill a squeeze. "Oh, shush. I wasn't _awful_ , they'd never have stood for it - my parents or the school - so if you've got any illusions that I blew up toilets or set my teachers on fire you're going to be sorely disappointed. Mainly I just squandered my parents' money by folding my worksheets into paper horses and writing guitar chords in the back of my maths book. And I bunked off a lot. I used to skip lessons all the time, and I usually got away with it. Tall girl in a posh uniform catching the train into the city; people thought I was a senior. There was a little cafe in the centre of town I liked to go to. People had meetings there - political activism and feminist gatherings and all sorts of things. I'd stuff my blazer in my bag and untuck my shirt and act like that made it less obvious where I came from. I met my first girlfriend there, actually. I was sixteen and she was nineteen, which seemed _so_ grown up to me then. She worked there; she was doing sociology at Manchester University with a focus on women's studies. She had a killer mullet and she didn't shave anything, and she'd have a spliff out the back on her break and tell me about patriarchal oppression. She was a walking cliche. I adored her." Julie smiled, remembering.

Gill's voice was drowsy when she replied. "Did you sleep with her?" 

"Once," Julie answered, lowering her voice because it sounded like Gill was headed toward sleep again. "She had a little flat that she shared with four other students. They all seemed gloriously bohemian to me, though actually I don't think it was a bad place at all. She did sleep on a matress on the floor, though, which felt very different. Like the opposite of glamorous, but exactly what I wanted, somehow. I don't know if that even makes sense, but for a lot of years I was all about things that felt _real_ , in the most pretentious way possible." This storytelling jaunt had meandered in a direction Julie hadn't expected, but she went with it. It was warm here with her arms around Gill, felt safe for her as well. 

She finished the story. "It only happened once because she found out how old I was a few weeks after. She'd assumed I was a senior as well, and I never corrected her. She wasn't too impressed when I let slip that I was going for my O Levels and not my A's. Not one of my proudest moments, although I didn't mislead her into doing anything illegal, so I don't think it was unforgivable..."

Julie trailed off into silence and Gill didn't answer. Her breathing was steady again and her heart-rate at rest, so Julie thought she must have fallen back to sleep. Smiling, Julie closed her eyes, and her body, remembering that she was most definitely not a morning person, soon dragged her into drowsiness as well. 

She was drifting somewhere between wakefulness and sleep when Gill spoke again. "Julie?" She sounded as dozy as Julie felt.

"Mm?" Julie managed in response.

"I want to be your girlfriend." It was spoken in a murmur, barely audible, and Julie's mind swelled with the size of it but couldn't cope in its sleepy state. She knew there were things, all sorts of feelings, good ones and bad ones, thoughts about timing and states of mind, but as it was all of it felt like a kind of soup in the brain, and Julie couldn't manage anything except the most basic response.

"Okay," she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to give credit to Aubry for some of the things included in this chapter. Julie's line about her terrible day was lifted almost verbatim from a comment Aubry made in a chat somewhere - it was something that struck me as absolutely perfect when I first heard it, and I couldn't help but include it in this fic. Also, the idea of Gill wanting to reclaim her body in the aftermath of her abduction was largely inspired by Aubry's own post-3x08 fic. My thanks to her for granting me permission to steal her ideas for her gift fic :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content Info:** Chapter contains discussion of/responses to trauma.

**v.**

Sometime after ten, Will Pemberton turns up at the party. Julie clocks him as soon as he enters, immediately feeling drunker than she is and worrying, for a moment, that he'll come over to speak to her. The state she's in, she really doesn't want to be responsible for her mouth. 

As it turns out, her fear is unfounded. Pemberton greets Gill with a nod and a handshake and a few words punctuated with that charming smile of his, but after that he seems to be searching the crowd for someone specific. It most certainly isn't Julie. 

She works out who it is when Rachel Bailey and Janet Scott come in from the balcony, and Pemberton's eyes find the younger of the two across the room. Rachel makes eye contact as well and a cautious smile plays at her lips, and soon the two of them have found a quiet corner in which to talk. 

Julie turns back to the conversation she's involved in. If she were the gossiping type, that would be a juicy little tidbit: a Sergeant and a Chief Superintendent clearly interested in more than discussing the job. But Julie has been the subject of office gossip enough times in her life that she's not inclined to spread it herself, and if there's something forming between Rachel Bailey and Will Pemberton that they can make work despite their difference in rank, well, Julie is hardly one to throw a spanner in that. 

A little later, Julie returns to the bar for another drink, and while she's standing there waiting to be served Rachel appears beside her looking equal parts starry-eyed and smug. 

"'Lo," Rachel greets, pink in the cheeks, planting her elbows on the bar. 

"Evening," Julie says, throwing Rachel a smile that feels rather knowing. "Having a good one?"

"I am," Rachel says, easy and confident. Her demeanor is very different with Julie now, a far cry from the sullen mess she was the first time they met, and even from the wary but determined character who worked so hard to crack Joe Bevan. She seems to have grown up a bit, or perhaps Julie just sees her differently now. She dealt well with Gill's absence those last few weeks, ran that behemoth of a case with diligence and precision. Proved herself. Now, finally, Julie is ready to agree with what Gill told her years ago: that Rachel Bailey is 'one of them'.

"Get you a drink?" Julie asks, with that in mind. 

Rachel smiles. "Thanks, but I'm getting a bottle." Her expression is pleased and secretive, and Julie, tongue and mind loosened with alcohol, can't leave that alone. 

"You two seeing each other, then?" she asks, jerking her head in Pemberton's direction. 

Rachel's cheeks colour up. "Maybe," she admits. "Don't know. We were, and then we weren't, and now…we'll see how the night goes, I suppose."

Julie nods, glancing at the barman who's serving over on the other side of the bar, and when she turns back to Rachel she finds that the other woman is looking at her with eyebrows raised. 

"What, no lecture?" she asks, a hint of the old belligerence returning, badly disguised under a jovial tone. "Nothing about how it'll make people think I'm shagging my way to the top? Gill gave me one, when she found out."

Julie snorts, even though the thought of Gill giving someone advice about romantic relationships, especially between colleagues, makes her feel vaguely uneasy. "Well, you hardly need to hear it from me as well, then," she says, and eyes Rachel for a moment, gauging her.

Perhaps it's not belligerence. If Rachel Bailey is one of them, perhaps she's like Gill - or indeed, like Julie herself sometimes - with a need for reassurance or affirmation disguised as combative confidence. _This is me and this is what I'm doing and I don't care what you think_ , except sometimes they did, really. And Rachel sure as hell wouldn't have got a balanced perspective on the subject from Gill.

"People will think what they want to think," Julie says, eventually. "No matter what you do. You can spend your whole life being worried about what people will say about you, and miss out on things that could have been really great, or you can say 'fuck it' and take it on the chin and just be good enough at what you do that they can't fault you."

Rachel studies Julie's face, nods, wheels whirring behind her eyes. Julie can almost hear her ideas stomping into Rachel's head, doing battle with whatever 'image is everything' speech Gill had likely given her. 

"Sounds like you've got some personal experience," Rachel says, smiling. 

"A bit," Julie agrees, thankful that Rachel, at least, doesn't seem to have developed omniscience. "But that's how I've tried to live my life in general, really. I always figured success didn't really mean much if I couldn't achieve it while also being honest about who I was." That had been one of her primary reasons for coming out at work, and it was important to her in other ways, too.

Rachel nods. "I like that." She looks thoughtful. "Do you think it's cost you? Taken longer to get where you are?"

"Probably," Julie concedes, "but it's hard to measure. I went through Bruche a few years ahead of Gill and Mitch and Dave, for example. Mitch isn't a climber, so he's stayed where he's happy, but Gill could have gone head to head with me for my job, if she'd chosen to. Dave shot up past me, but he did that by lying and cheating and walking on the backs of the people beneath him, and I wouldn't be that person for anything. Wherever I end up, at least I know I picked my own terms. You should, too. Draw a few lines in the sand before you get any more people trying to tie strings on you. And if one of them is seeing whoever you like and sod anyone who wants to think less of you for it, then you'll know that's a choice you made consciously."

"Yeah," Rachel agrees, nodding again. 

Their conversation comes to a natural close when the barman comes for their order. Julie lets Rachel order her bottle of wine, then glances sideways at her. "Shot?" she asks, as the barman turns to her. "Toast for the future, or something?"

Rachel smiles. "Oh, go on then."

"What'll it be?" the barman asks. Julie arches an eyebrow at Rachel.

"Always been partial to a B-55 myself," Rachel says.

The barman nods and turns to reach for bottles, but Julie has to ask: "What the hell is a B-55?"

Rachel sets her wine bucket on the bar to free up her hand. "Like a B-52, but with absinthe instead of the yellow one. Think I've tried every Baileys drink there is - people are always buying them for me on my birthday."

Julie laughs. "I suppose they would." She doesn't know what a B-52 is either, but she can't help but shake her head at the thought of absinthe. "God. I am really going to regret this tomorrow, aren't I?"

"You working?" Rachel asks.

Julie laughs. "No, thank goodness. Swapped with DSI Ryman."

Rachel grins as their shots are placed on the bar. They look colourful - a layered shot with something brown at the bottom, Baileys in the middle and the green topping them off. "Regrets are what days off are for," she says, reaching for hers. Julie does the same. 

"Cheers," Rachel says, and Julie taps their glasses together.

Julie downs her shot. It's sweet, tastes of cream and coffee - that brown layer must have been Kahlua - but the absinthe leaves an aftertaste, herbal and slightly bitter. Julie sets her glass down on the bar, feels the warmth of the drink radiate through her chest. Rachel's gone red, too.

"D'you think it's cost Gill?" she asks as she sets her own glass down and picks up her wine bucket again. "Being so concerned what everyone thinks?"

The warmth in Julie's chest turns suddenly tight. She picks up her pint chaser, takes a sip to give herself a moment. 

It must be the shot still swimming in her brain that makes her answer the way she does: "Isn't that why we're here? Folding is safer than trying when you're not sure of your hand."

Rachel gives Julie a funny, gauging sort of look, smiles in a way that's a little bit sad. "Thanks for the drink," she says, gripping the wine bucket in her arm and heading back to where Will Pemberton is waiting for her. 

Julie watches her walk toward the promise of something hopeful and swallows a mouthful of her beer.

~*~

And so they tried.

The morning after the party, Julie woke before Gill. That was unusual - Gill was generally the morning person - but she seemed to be sleeping soundly at last, so Julie gently extricated herself from the bed and shrugged herself back into the previous day's clothes. She left her blazer hanging from the corner of the bedside table and instead appropriated a blanket that was folded over the chair in the corner. Tying it around her shoulders, Julie padded downstairs feeling like a mixed up caped crusader who'd forgotten her spandex.

There were several bodies in the living room: stretched out on the settees, curled into armchairs and even lying on the floor with arms pillowed beneath their heads. Julie avoided them, slipping past into the kitchen, which was strewn with bottles and empty food packets but didn't look too bad for all that. Julie managed to dig out the kettle from amongst it all, anyway, and was able to clear a space big enough to prepare a mug of tea.

While she was waiting for the water to boil, she inspected the detritus, then as an afterthought grabbed a garbage bag and shoved a few crisp packets into it. By the time the kettle had boiled, she'd managed to clear all the non-recyclable rubbish off the bench, and was feeling quite proud of herself, not least because she'd recovered a packet of cigarettes from beneath the litter, half-full with a lighter inside. 

" _Taxed_ ," she murmured to herself as she pocketed them.

Tea made, Julie slipped out the back door onto the deck, curling her cape a little tighter around her shoulders against the chill. It was a misty morning - a blanket of fog hung over the moor and hadn't yet burned away - but the sun was straining through the clouds, so Julie parked herself in its light and set her mug on the edge of the rail for a moment as she lit one of the pilfered cigarettes. 

It tasted good. Certainly it felt like a cigarette kind of morning, though Julie wasn't entirely sure whether it was an anxiety smoke or a smug, post-coital celebration. Bit of both, probably.

Julie heard the back door slide open. 

"Thought I heard someone rustling about," Sammy said, offering Julie a smile as she turned. "Had to come make sure it wasn't a burglar; wasn't going to be my mates clearing up."

Julie smiled back, taking a sip of her tea. "Only me," she said. 

Sammy joined her. "You stayed."

"Yeah," Julie answered, taking a drag on the cigarette and tapping ash off over the railing. "Found these on the kitchen bench. They're not yours, are they?" She arched an eyebrow at him, even though she knew it was the most hypocritical question in the world, given the circumstances. 

Sammy shook his head. "Nah. Liam's, I think. Must have left them here."

"You're chipper for the morning after," Julie observed. "Don't look too worse for wear." He looked entirely normal, actually - comfortable in a pair of jogging bottoms and a hoodie, alert and awake.

"Didn't want to make an idiot of myself," he said. "Not in front of Orla's parents. Not after that day. Didn't want Mum to have to clean up. How… How is she?" Worry lines creased his forehead.

Julie took another sip of her tea. "I think she's all right. For now, at least. I don't think it's all over just because it's over, though. Might take a little while."

Sammy nodded. "Did you sleep with her?"

Julie's eyes widened mid-drag on her cigarette. It took her a moment to realise that he'd meant the question literally - just long enough for his own eyebrows to lift in surprise at her response. Julie turned her head, had smoke in her eyes and pretended that was all it was, blinked a few times to dispel the sting. 

"I… Yeah. She didn't want to be alone, and we figured the spare bed would be taken anyway." It was a weak response, and when she looked at Sammy again it was clear he wasn't buying it.

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Julie, are you and Mum... _together_?" 

Julie took a deep breath. Wasn't that the million quid question? She thought of that sleepy statement Gill had made and wondered if she'd meant it, thought of her response and wondered if it had been acquiescence or acknowledgement. "Don't know," she answered eventually, the only honest response. 

"But you…?" Sammy looked confused.

"Sammy." Julie took another sip of her tea. "Do you _really_ want to have this conversation? Because you know I'll answer you." He'd asked her enough questions about sex over the years to know she wasn't backwards about discussing it. 

"Well, no," he admitted. He'd turned very serious, though. "Just…was Mum okay to make that sort of decision, after everything?"

Julie felt herself baulk at the question, though it very quickly turned to an appreciation for Sammy's understanding of consent and affection for his protectiveness of Gill. She took a moment to consider her response. 

"That's kind of complicated," she said, "and I'm not going into details. But I hope you'll trust me when I say that I asked her that question myself, and I wouldn't have done anything if I hadn't got a satisfactory answer. Just because someone's in a weird place doesn't mean they don't know their own head." She met Sammy's gaze, and he regarded her steadily for a few moments before he nodded. 

"Okay," he said. 

Julie drained her tea, finished her cigarette. She cast about for something to do with the butt before reaching over to drop it into an empty beer bottle that had been left on the railing. "Think I'll go make your mum a brew," she said. "Be there when she wakes up so she doesn't think I've done a runner. You want a cup?"

"'Nah," Sammy said. "Thanks anyway. I should start cleaning up out here."

"Have fun with that." Julie smiled and headed for the house. "Come bang on the door if you need a hand with breakfast for the zombies in there."

"We'll probably just get takeaway," Sammy said. "And Julie?"

"Hm?" She turned back.

"I wouldn't mind if you were. Together, I mean." Sammy smiled, and Julie laughed.

"I'll note down your preference," she said, chuckling as she opened the door. 

Five minutes later, Julie slipped back into Gill's bedroom, awkwardly juggling two full mugs as she closed the door behind her. 

Gill was awake and watching her. She looked tiny in the bed, covers pulled up to her chin and hair mussed, but she smiled when Julie turned around. "Morning, Slap," she murmured.

"Morning," Julie whispered as she leaned down to set the steaming mug on Gill's bedside table. Before she could rise again, Gill's hand snaked out from the covers and took hold of her shirt, and Gill pushed herself up as she tugged Julie down until their lips met somewhere in the middle. Julie, arm askew as she held on tight to her mug to keep it steady, could do little more than allow herself to be snogged, though she did cant her chin into Gill's a little, pressing her head back and nipping her lip so it wasn't a complete submission.

Gill inhaled deeply as their lips parted. "You taste of smoke," she breathed.

"Guilty," Julie murmured, offering a sly smile. "Can you let go of me before I spill my tea on you?"

"Oh!" Gill gave a little squeak of surprise, releasing her hold on Julie's shirt when she realised the precarious position she was in. "Sorry." 

Julie laughed, rounding the bed to set her mug down on the other stand. "Not complaining," she said, untwining the blanket from her shoulders and moving to put it back where she'd got it from. 

Gill had pushed herself up to sit now, watched Julie as she folded the blanket and dropped it back over the armchair . "I've never kissed you in the morning before," she said, hitching the corner of the duvet up over one shoulder then holding it in place as she reached for her tea. "Thought I'd give it a try."

It was true. That wasn't something they'd ever done. Neither of them had ever run out on the other after one of their nights together, and their mornings were never awkward, but at some point they'd set an unspoken boundary between night and day, and their mornings had never been anything but the same sort of friendly they were any other time. So this was new.

Julie moved back to the bed. The thought of getting back underneath the covers in her work trousers felt strange, so she tugged her fly undone and shimmied out of them before climbing back in.

She picked up her cup of tea. "So what's the verdict, then?"

Gill looked at her, and suddenly they were talking about far more than just kissing. 

"I like it," Gill said, with a little smile. Then, quieter: "I meant what I said, you know."

Julie took a deep breath; she could feel her heart beating in her chest. It wasn't racing - nothing as dramatic as all that - but everything suddenly felt very still, and her physicality, by contrast, seemed quite large. Here was her heart, beating away; there were her fingers, warming in a way that had nothing to do with the mug in her hand. Here was her breath, rising hot from her lungs, and there were the tips of her ears bizarrely tingling. 

"Do you..." And here she faltered, feeling the size of it, the weight of _want_ descending on her, stronger than she'd imagined it would be. It warred with sense, with reason, with her idea of _right_ , but eventually the latter won out. "Do you think this is the right time for this?"

Gill turned to face her more fully, clutched her mug in both hands. She swallowed and the bruise on her neck - darker this morning, browning at the edges - rippled with the force of it. "When is the right time?" she asked. "When will be? I nearly… I could have died yesterday. Any of us could, either of us, at any time. I thought about you yesterday, when I was driving on that road - what if I died and we'd never attempted… I never realised I was waiting, but I think I was. I think have been, and I don't want to anymore."

" _Gill_ ," Julie whispered, chest aching. She longed to reach out, slide her fingers into Gill's hair and kiss her until neither of them had any sense left. Julie had been waiting, had known it, since that night after Dave had gone at least. Perhaps, in some secret way she'd barely even admitted to herself, she'd been waiting ever since that first time all those years ago, the conversation just like this one. 

"I know it's backwards," Gill continued, "or strange at least. I know it's not perfect. I've never... I don't know how all this is going to affect me, going forward, but I know what I want right now." She lifted her mug and took a gulp of her tea, watching Julie, set the mug down on her knee. After a moment, her eyes turned searching. "Slap. Say something?"

Julie realised she hadn't, that she'd just been sitting there like a knob, taking in everything and giving nothing back. "I..." she breathed, but there was too much inside her, too many conflicting emotions for the formation of words. Was the timing wrong? Maybe, but Gill was right too, and she'd just said it to Sammy, hadn't she, about them knowing their own minds?

Decisive action was needed. Almost involuntarily, Julie's arm swung out, depositing her half-empty mug on the bedside table. It was a little more warning than Gill had given her, so Gill had time to discard her own before Julie gave into the urge to bury her fingers in Gill's hair and just kiss and kiss and kiss her. 

"I wasn't so good at this," Julie whispered when they paused for breath, winded and desperate. "Not the last time I was with someone who was dealing with things."

"It's okay," Gill breathed, pressing her forehead against Julie's and sucking on her top lip. "That was different, we're different, we'll work it out."

"Take it slow," Julie said, lips moving along Gill's jaw then back to claim her mouth again. 

"Slow, yes," Gill agreed, hand fisting in Julie's shirt. 

"Listen to each other, communicate," Julie added, a breath against Gill's mouth.

"Yes," Gill repeated, tugging at Julie's buttons.

Julie's lips felt bruised. Her hand that wasn't tangled in Gill's hair had found its way under the duvet again, and somehow she'd pressed Gill back into the pillow. "I've never had you in daylight before," she whispered, fingers finding the outline of Gill's hip. 

"First time for everything," Gill replied, arching into the touch. Her knees parted as Julie's hand slipped between them. 

It had never been like this before. By the light of day Julie tugged Gill's head back and laid lips on her throat again, mouthing gently at mottled skin. By the light of day Julie watched the blush rise in Gill's cheeks, could see the little capillaries beneath her skin blooming with colour. By the light of day the dozens of different shades of brown that made up Gill's irises shrank as her pupils dilated with need.

Julie dragged a thumb over Gill's blushing lip. "Is this really happening?" she asked, unable to keep the wonder from her voice. "This is what you want? Not just here and now?"

Gill's fingers slipped into her hair and pulled her down for yet another kiss. "It's what I want," she affirmed, smiling. "It's really happening."

" _Gill_. God, you look beautiful in the morning."

Gill murmured contentedly, bit her bottom lip, giving Julie's hair a tug and arching her hips to push herself against Julie's hand. "Stop talking now," she whispered, holding Julie close. 

Julie arched an eyebrow, keeping eye contact as the movement of her hand became more focussed. Gill's lips parted, her tongue wet them, her breath hitched.

There was a gentle tap on the door. "Julie?" came Sammy's voice, quiet.

Gill's eyes widened and Julie froze, answered quickly: "Don't come in!"

There was a shuffle outside the door. "Okay. Just, how do you make pancakes? We're not getting a takeaway after all."

Julie bit her lip as Gill started to laugh beneath her, shaking silently. She racked her brain. "It's, er, flour and eggs and milk, I think. Bit of sugar. Google it?"

Gill's laughter had begun to make sound. Shaking her head, Julie smiled, pressing her hand over Gill's mouth to stifle the noise. Gill bit down on her finger.

"Er, okay, but…"

"Sorry I can't be more help!" Julie cut him off because she didn't know how much longer she could keep Gill silent. "I know I offered, but I'm a bit busy now. Doing that thing you said you didn't mind."

" _Oh._ " Sammy's voice was rich with understanding - more than he might want, if Julie had to guess. "Oh god. Okay. I'll google it. Bye." They heard his footsteps as he fled down the hall.

When they heard him head down the stairs, Julie lifted her hand away from Gill's mouth, and her laughter bubbled up aloud. "That _thing_ he doesn't _mind_?" she asked, incredulous, when she'd recovered enough to do so. "You've gone all red," she added, smirking.

Julie kissed the expression off her mouth. "Not half as red as he is, I bet," she said, and Gill giggled again. "He was onto us anyway."

"And how did that happen?" Gill arched an eyebrow, still smiling.

Julie's own smile twisted in an admission of guilt. "Might have let that cat out." Gill's eyebrow stayed arched; Julie explained herself: "He asked me if I'd slept with you. I didn't realise he meant it _literally_. It was early; I hadn't even finished my first brew!"

Gill laughed again, leaned up to press a kiss against Julie's jaw. "Useless," she whispered in Julie's ear. "You're useless in the morning."

It was a challenge and Julie knew it. She shifted her hand beneath the duvet again, getting back to where they'd been before the interruption. "Oh, am I?" she asked, flexing her fingers. "Say that again."

"Completely useless," Gill sighed, arching into the touch.

"Hm," Julie murmured in response. Later, she would claim that her lack of witty riposte had been mercy - it was unfair to banter with someone so lost to touch, after all. But really, Julie was so taken in by the sight of Gill - the glint of her eyelashes as they fluttered in the sunlight, her hair shimmering red and gold as her head arched back into the pillow - that her language left her completely.

*

And so they tried.

It wasn't perfect. It took a few days for the dust to settle for Gill, for the low and the high to equalise themselves into a new kind of normal, one that Gill said she wasn't entirely sure how to deal with. It had Julie in it to kiss her and hold her and make her laugh, but it also came with continued nightmares and a panic attack the first time she tried to get in a car again. Julie was there for all that, waking her when she kicked in her sleep and guiding her back inside when she couldn't face the drive, talking her through breathing exercises until she came back to herself. 

The next time they tried, they performed a little car checking ritual - back seat, boot, wheel wells. Gill said it was ridiculous but it seemed to help her anyway. At that stage, it was still Julie offering to drive - Gill's car had been impounded for evidence and she said she didn't want it back anyway. Julie could more than understand why, but of course that also meant they had to prepare for the daunting task of going shopping for a new one (in the end it was Gill who picked the make and model and sat briefly in the driver's seat, but Julie who took the thing for a spin). 

There were other triggers, too. Once, Julie unthinkingly slipped up behind Gill while she was cooking dinner and wrapped arms around her middle, and then had to spend the rest of the evening cleaning onions and bacon grease from every surface in the kitchen. She learned to announce herself after that, and the series of superficial burns on Gill's hands were a stark reminder to Julie that she couldn't afford to be careless.

But despite the difficulties and missteps, Julie found those first few weeks to be some of the most joyful of her life. They saw more of each other than they had for years, even after they were both back at work. Julie would spend the evening at Gill's when her day was long, or Gill at Julie's when she was running a big one and clocked in more hours. They couldn't manage it all the time, but even when they weren't able to see each other they still found ways to communicate. Gill turned out to be a gifted composer of dirty text messages - so much so that Julie had to avoid looking at them in briefings lest her cheeks give away exactly what she was reading - and Julie became quite skilled, and rather brazen, at the crisp-shirt-and-silky-bra workplace selfie. 

The photographs had begun as a joke - Julie responding to Gill's missive about having a hard day by slipping into one of the loos at work, unbuttoning her shirt and sending an artfully posed photograph of her breasts - but it quickly became a challenge when Gill admitted just how successful it was at cheering her up. Julie began to scheme up more creative and riskier places to send similar pictures from, on one memorable occasion even managing one from inside Karen Zalinski's office. During a meeting, the woman had nipped out to answer an important mobile call in another room, so Julie had taken the opportunity to put her own mobile to its most productive use. She'd only barely got away with that one; Zalinski was a terse conversationalist at the best of times, and Julie hadn't quite managed to fully re-button her shirt before she returned. She'd spent the rest of that meeting being very, very careful about leaning forward.

And so Julie found herself falling, hard, the way she always did when she ended up in a relationship. It was the same caution-to-the-wind leap of the heart that had meant that she'd owned seven dogs in the last thirty years, all adopted with girlfriends that she'd moved in with in under a year, then had to give up when the relationships didn't work out and the ex inevitably worked fewer hours than she did. If Julie was honest with herself, she thought that all of those relationships had failed because the strength and speed of her fall never quite lived up to the reality of long-term commitment, but this time round it felt less like tumbling and more like blissful surrender. Being with Gill felt right - they'd been best mates for so long that this progression seemed natural, even inevitable given the nights they'd spent together over the years. Julie began to wonder if she really had been waiting for this all her life, and very quickly wanted to throw herself in, heart and soul. She was aware that that desire was at odds with their agreement to take it slow, but she couldn't help herself, and she figured that as long as she was aware of that, everything would be okay. If it took Gill a little longer to catch up, well, that was fine.

*

Sammy knew. Even without their conversation the morning after his engagement, he couldn't have failed to notice Julie's increased presence in his home, or the fact that she usually stayed over, and not in the spare bedroom.

"It's good for Mum, having someone," he said to her one day out of the blue when Gill wasn't around. "And you too, I hope. I always wondered, you know. Since that time you stayed here after Dad left. You made a good team."

"We always have," Julie said, smiling. She looked askance at Sammy, wondering where this conversation was going. "It wasn't like this before your dad left, though. You know that, right?"

"Oh!" Sammy exclaimed, laughing. "No, that never even crossed my mind. I just. It'll be good for her to have someone around, you know, is good, because Orla and I...we've been looking for a place."

"Oh," Julie said. "That's great." She supposed it was bound to happen eventually, and now that they were engaged, sooner was more likely than later. 

"It's time," he said. "I just, well. I don't know how Mum'll take it, after everything. Will you... Would you maybe mention that we had this conversation, give her a chance to get used to the idea before I announce that we've found somewhere?" He looked hopeful. 

The idea didn't appeal much to Julie. She and Sammy had always talked about things that he wasn't comfortable discussing with his mother, but in the past they'd been awkward teenager things, conversations no one would ever want to have with a parent. Julie had always been happy that he chose to come to her with them rather than seeking out a friend his own age or some other poor source of information or advice. But this felt more like running interference between them, and Julie wasn't sure she liked that. 

She looked at his hopeful face, though, and decided it was innocuous enough. "All right," she said. 

When she mentioned it to Gill, there was no reaction at all. 

"Did he say that?" she asked, juggling groceries into the cupboard. "Hasn't mentioned it to me. Can't say I'm surprised, though." Her voice was light, airy, just a little too casual, and it made Julie worried.

*

Sammy knew, but no one else did.

Gill was nervous about coming out to friends and colleagues, about their relationship or otherwise. 

"I'm already a spectacle," she said when Julie broached the possibility of attending a function together and making it obvious they were _together_. "They're already hovering around me like nervous grandmothers. Imagine how much worse it would be if they all start getting _concerned_ because I've _never shown any inclination to women_ before. God, I can't even stand the thought of it."

It was true. As far as Julie could tell, Gill hadn't been left alone in the office since it happened - Mitch or Janet or Rachel or Pete always found an excuse to be there until she left. Julie thought it was sweet, and often necessary - having someone to check her car for her made the drive home that much easier for Gill - but she could see where it would feel like being coddled. Still, Julie thought it was a leap to suggest that they'd have a problem with Gill being in a relationship, and she couldn't help but feel a little wounded.

Gill noticed. "Just give me some time?" she asked, approaching Julie to curl arms around her neck. "Give me a chance to fade back into the woodwork? We can be the gossip once everyone's stopped worrying about me so much." 

Gill's eyes were large and earnest, pleading, and Julie couldn't say no to that. Perhaps this was part of 'taking it slow'.

"All right," she said.

*

When Sammy moved out, things got strange. Julie had expected to see more of Gill after it happened, but instead Gill fobbed her off for a full week, calling to say that she was working late or texting that she wasn't feeling up to company, even flat-out ignoring messages. Julie was a little perplexed and disappointed by the sudden drought, but she tried to accept that Gill needed a bit of space to get used to her empty nest, and mostly succeeded.

On Saturday evening the drought broke in the form of Gill turning up on Julie's doorstep, apologising for her crazy and tearing Julie's clothes off as soon as they were in the door. Julie was bemused but she accepted the apology, such as it was, written in kisses and telegraphed through fingers, morse code drummed out inside her.

Afterwards, Gill wrapped herself in Julie's dressing gown and fetched them a bottle of wine, and they drank it in bed. Julie was feeling pleasantly stretched and decadent until Gill turned to her and asked: "Did you put the idea in his head, moving out?"

"What? No." Julie gathered the duvet up over her nakedness, feeling suddenly defensive. 

Gill barely seemed to hear. "Only he never, ever mentioned it to me, and then you do and suddenly he's gone a few weeks later."

"I think he'd been talking it over with Orla for a while..." Julie tried, but Gill broke in again. 

"Because if this is some idea you've got about having me all to yourself, well..."

"Gill." Julie, affronted now, let her voice take on something of the Superintendent bark. It was enough to break Gill's stride long enough for her to get a word in. "Gill, listen to yourself. What single thing that you know about me would suggest that I'd do a thing like that? What parts of my relationship with you and my relationship with Sammy are incompatible?"

Gill couldn't answer. 

Julie continued. "I mentioned it to you because Sammy asked me to, because he was worried about how you'd take it, him leaving when you were still recovering. Maybe I shouldn't have - it went against my better judgement - but I thought a bit of advanced warning might be good."

Gill was red in the cheeks. " _He_ could have," she said, hands shaking. " _He_ could have told me that. See, this is what I mean. Everyone's treating me like I'm some fragile thing. Even my own son. Even you."

"I'm sorry," Julie said, meaning it, even though she wasn't quite sure how she'd come to be the one apologising after being ignored for a week, bedded and then accused of conniving. "I thought I was doing right. I'll remember next time. I've never done this before, you know, being _the stepmother_."

Gill snorted and it turned into a giggle. "I suppose you are, aren't you?"

Julie nodded. "Not as straightforward as I thought. I suppose Sammy asked me that because he's always asked me things he wasn't sure about discussing with you. It didn't feel _that_ strange, which is why I agreed."

"Well don't," Gill said. "If he wants to talk to you, fine, but if he asks you to relay a message, tell him he should be talking to me."

"Okay," Julie agreed, but she did feel like she was getting the rough end of the stick, here. "But you can't come blazing in accusing me of things either, okay? You _know_ I would never." She had to wonder if this was the real reason for the week of silence, too, and if that was the case, she wasn't sure how she felt about sex first, questions later. It felt a bit wrong in retrospect, and Julie opened her mouth to say so, but stopped short when she noticed that Gill was fighting back tears, biting her lip and blinking rapidly.

"I'm sorry," she said, voice rough. "I've been feeling so angry lately. I don't know what's wrong with me." 

Julie swallowed her concerns. Gill was all over the place tonight. She'd gone from horny to angry in half an hour, and now from laughter to tears in the space of thirty seconds. She didn't need to hear criticisms on top of that. 

Julie switched to support mode instead. "You're still processing," she said. "Anger is normal."

"I'm fucking sick of it!" Gill hissed, clawing tears off her cheeks. "Sick of all of this. Why can't I just… _augh_." Gill's hands fisted on her knees, she dropped her head back to sigh at the ceiling. After a moment, her eyes closed. She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders, gave herself a shake, reached for her wine glass and downed what remained of it. "Sorry," she said again, when she turned back to face Julie. "Sorry I'm so fucking crazy. It's boring. No fun to be around."

Julie hated this part, watching someone struggling with something and knowing she couldn't help. Julie always wanted to fix things, make it all better, but experience had taught her that there were some things people just had to do for themselves. Didn't make it any easier, though. 

Julie answered the only way she could. Even though she wasn't sure about what had just happened, she nudged Gill's leg with her own and smiled. "I don't know; it was pretty fun when you first got here." It wasn't a lie, and Gill laughed, so that felt like doing something, at least. 

"Well, I'm glad of that, anyway," Gill said, leaning across for a kiss. Julie gave it to her, and then Gill refilled her glass from the bottle and topped up Julie's. "Can we put the telly on for a bit? I think I need to turn my brain off."

"All right," Julie agreed, reaching for the remote. "But only if you come and use me as a lounge chair, because you've nicked my gown and I can't be arsed to go and dig a spare out, and I need the warmth."

"Deal," Gill said, and they maneuvered, Julie shifting toward the middle of the bed and propping a few extra pillows behind her shoulders before Gill settled down between her knees and leaned back against her. Gill pulled the duvet up around them as Julie curled an arm around her middle and flicked the telly on.

"What'll it be?" Julie asked.

"Hm," Gill considered, wriggling as she made herself comfortable. "I liked that one we watched last time."

"Orange is the New Black?" Julie asked, chuckling. She kissed the top of Gill's head. "Sometimes I think you're just using me for my Netflix subscription."

Gill laughed and reached for her wine. "You'll never know," she said, holding the glass in her lap. 

Julie navigated the onscreen menu, searching for the episode they'd got up to last time. She was considerably further ahead than Gill. A thought occurred to her as she backed up past the one titled 'Tall Men With Feelings'. "All these things you've said to me, you are talking to your therapist about them, aren't you?"

Gill grunted. "Stopped seeing him. He was an idiot, talked a lot of bollocks. Complete waste of taxpayers' money." Her tone was adamant, suggesting the matter wasn't open for discussion. Julie closed her eyes for a moment, stifled a sigh.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," she said, but didn't push it. She'd found the episode and pressed play instead, let Gill get away with that, too. 

Later. They could talk about it later, sometime when Gill wasn't so on edge. Right then, it felt like enough just to be.

*

It was after that night that Gill started to say she was fine. Julie sourced a list of other police department approved therapists and brought it home to Gill, but Gill barely glanced at it before she laid it aside.

"I'm fine, really. At least, I've decided to be. I know what's wrong with me, I know what my triggers are, and I think I'm better off just getting on with things and not digging at the wound all the time."

"Gill..." Julie started, but was cut off by a perfectly raised eyebrow and a pointed stare. 

"Don't. Don't be condescending, Slap. I know what I'm about, and I've made a decision. I need you to accept it."

Julie stood there for several moments just staring at Gill, feeling a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to insist, wanted to push the issue, but was that for Gill's benefit or hers? Was she being condescending, assuming that she knew better than Gill what Gill needed? Was it a product of her deep-seated need to feel like she was doing something to help, or was she right? Would agreeing to drop the issue be enabling? 

Julie didn't know, and that terrified her. It reminded her of Abigail, the girlfriend Julie had once come home to find bleeding out in the bathroom. Even though Julie knew logically that she couldn't compare the two relationships, she also knew that she had failed Abigail, that there'd been signs and she hadn't seen them. She'd made mistakes in that relationship, far too many of them, and they'd done damage. She didn't think for a second that Gill was headed in that direction, but there were different kinds of damage, and Julie knew she was in a position where she could prevent it or inflict it. She just couldn't tell which thing she was doing, and she hated that. One thing she could see, though, was that Gill was adamant. Would pushing the issue achieve anything other than making Gill pull away?

Julie sighed. "All right," she said, and Gill beamed. 

"I knew I could trust you to listen to me," Gill said, moving forward to curl her arms around Julie's neck. "It means a lot, knowing that. Don't need to pour my heart out to all those idiots when I've got you to hear me."

Gill pulled her down for a kiss, and Julie allowed it, but the knot at the pit of her stomach did not go away.

*

Gill did seem somewhat better in the weeks that followed. She seemed to be coping fine at work, and there were no more angry outbursts in the bedroom. She made a show of checking her own car, and she did the grocery shopping by herself as well, delivering several bags to Julie's one evening, one of which contained an almond croissant breakfast for two. That particular item was in a little branded bag, bought from a French patisserie inside the complex where Gill had been shopping the day she was abducted. Julie couldn't help but notice that it was given pride of place when the groceries were unpacked, displayed on the kitchen bench with its emblem shining like a medal.

But even with the improvements, Gill and Julie spent most of their time together at home, and after a while it started to grate on Julie that they'd never been seen together in any setting that wasn't domestic or banal. She wanted to go out with Gill, wanted strangers to put two and two together. She wasn't one for public displays of affection, not these days, but she did like to feel that she was actively resisting groping her girlfriend in public. She wanted Gill to see that look in her eyes, wanted to know if she could incite the same expression in Gill. Perhaps she wanted to test Gill, too, see if she was as fine as she made herself out to be.

"I should take you out sometime," Julie said on a lazy Sunday evening, while was Gill using her lap as a pillow and reading a police periodical. Julie was painting her nails a sparkling navy blue, and she waved them under Gill's nose to draw her attention.

"Hm?" Gill looked up at her, eyebrow a question mark.

"Fancy dinner, maybe dancing. Proper date night; show you off a bit." Julie blew on her nails to dry them off.

"All right," Gill said, unhesitating. "When?"

Julie, pleasantly surprised by the response, considered. "I should be able to get off early enough on Thursday. How does that sound?"

"It's a date," Gill said, smiling, gazing at Julie for a few moments before she went back to her magazine.

*

Julie booked a table at a fancy restaurant, spent all week looking forward to their night out. On Monday she spent an illicit half-hour of work time reading restaurant reviews and comparing her favourite choices with nearby clubs so they could go dancing if they wanted to, then on Tuesday evening she picked out her outfit. On Wednesday she refined it by swapping out a few accessories, and when she went to bed that night she had the whole thing packed up and ready to go in the morning.

When Thursday arrived, it was hellish. Julie got to the office at seven and there were already three fires to put out - the night crew had made a series of small mistakes that had snowballed into urgent calls to be made in the morning - and her day only got busier from there. The residents of Manchester were in fine form with the maiming and killing and stealing from each other that day; Julie had to travel to four different syndicates to advise their teams, and attended two crime scenes because of multiple murder. She made statements to six journalists and deflected at least eight more, and spent what must have added up to several hours on the phone with various superiors, offering explanations and reassurances and enduring bollockings. The whole day felt like an exercise in witnessing the worst of what humanity could do to each other, but of course having nothing concrete to show for it at the end - no one to nick, no one to charge, just a pile of paperwork to sign off on. It was on days like these that she missed running her own syndicate, seeing the tangible results of her efforts. Most days, she loved her job - loved being in a position to make decisions and be the change she wanted to see - but sometimes you just wanted to read the charge sheet to some despicable arsehole and watch him begin to realise that he was going away for a very long time. 

Thankfully, the one benefit to a more administrative role was that Julie could prioritise. Hell or not, she managed to straighten out the worst of the bureaucratic tangles by five, and decided that everything non-urgent could wait until morning. She was out of the office at ten past, slinging her leather jacket over her shoulders in place of her blazer, and was on the road with her phone set to Do Not Disturb five minutes later. The traffic, of course, was a snarling nightmare that made her wish for the days when she could have slapped a siren on the roof and blown through all of it, but she watched the sun falling toward the horizon in her rear-view mirror and imagined its dying energy propelling her toward Gill, and that made it bearable. 

When she arrived at Gill's place she found her in the living room, wrapped in her dressing gown with her face still done from her day. She clearly hadn't been home long herself - the glass of wine beside her was barely touched - but she looked like heaven, relaxed and fuzzy with a magazine in her lap and her stockinged feet propped up on the coffee table. She lifted her head as Julie barrelled in. 

"Hiya," Julie sighed, dropping the hanger of her suit bag over the doorknob and disentangling herself from her handbag, dumping it on the side-table before finally, finally coming to a stop. 

"Hi." Gill gave her a little smile, watching her for a moment before she set her magazine aside and rose from her seat. "Rough day?"

"Total shite," Julie agreed, reaching for Gill as she approached and pulling her in for a kiss. "Four dead bodies and a colossal fuckup at one of the other syndicates. Surprised I'm still walking, number of times I got raked over the coals."

"Aw." Gill's voice was flippant, but her fingers tiptoed across Julie's shoulder to curl around the back of her neck and pull her down for another kiss. "Guess you didn't have time for any of the non-urgent emails, then."

"I really didn't," Julie said. "Why? How was your day?"

"I was right," Gill said, brimming with it, eyes shining. "That body we dragged out of the quarry, it _is_ Mandy Sweeting. I can't believe I knew just from looking at her."

Julie smiled. "Bloody walking forensic encyclopedia, you. _I'm_ not surprised." She kissed Gill's cheek, clung to her for a moment longer. "But if I have to talk about work for one more minute today I might explode. I am going to have a shower, and put on my fancy clothes, and then I am _taking you out_."

"Okay," Gill whispered, looking up at Julie. Those were definitely Eyes she was making, but Julie ignored them, releasing her waist with a hand that lingered for just a moment. Later, it said, both to Gill and herself. 

When Julie stepped into the shower, it was heavenly. She felt the pressure of the day leave her almost immediately, and found herself just standing under the hot water, eyes closed, letting it all wash away. 

Dinner. That was what she wanted to focus on. She was taking her girl to dinner. There would be fancy wine and maybe a candle on the table, and at some point she would make Gill laugh just for the pleasure of hearing it, of seeing that smile and the warmth in her eyes. She would reach across the table and touch Gill's hand, in public and unashamed. Afterward, they would... Well, it had been a long day; maybe they'd skip the dancing so that they still had the energy for other physical activities. 

Julie was still daydreaming a few minutes later when she heard the bathroom door click open, but she didn't open her eyes until Gill slipped into the shower with her, naked and smiling. 

"Somehow, I knew I'd find you like this - wasting my water," Gill said. Shower spray landed on her collarbones and turned quickly to rivulets that trickled down over her breasts. 

"Yeah, well," Julie replied, mind blissfully blank at the sight of Gill suddenly naked and wet in front of her. "It's been a tough day. Need to wash it off."

Gill stepped closer and Julie turned to the side to let the spray hit her more fully, watching the water catch the ends of her hair and turn it dark. "Why don't you let me help you?" Gill asked, reaching for the loofah hanging from the tap. She looked up at Julie, eyes all playful warmth. "Let me take care of you for a change?"

They were pressed for time, that much Julie was aware of. She'd made the booking for seven-thirty, and getting there wasn't going to be a five minute drive. But Gill was squeezing shower gel onto the loofah and reaching up to lather it against Julie's shoulder, and the water was warm and it glistened on Gill's nipples, and that was about all the thought Julie could manage. 

"You are tense," Gill murmured, passing the loofah to her left hand as it glided across Julie's collarbones, leaving the right free to massage her shoulder, "even now." Gill's thumb, slick with lather, slid up the side of Julie's throat, and her fingers curled into Julie's shoulder, fanned out. "Let me," she murmured again. 

Julie, eyes heavy-lidded, felt mindless, unable to focus on anything but the feel of the water and Gill's touch. Belatedly, she realised that she was being asked for permission, and transfixed by the sight of the water cascading over Gill's belly, nodded. 

Gill washed her. With the sudsy loofah she drew circles on Julie's chest and lathered her arms, taking her time to ensure that she covered every inch of skin. Julie stood there, watching as Gill worked, the singular focus on her face and the confidence of her touch, waiting for Julie to lift her arm so she could sponge the inside of it, trailing down to the crook of her elbow and stroking the skin there with a soapy thumb. Julie tingled, warm in a way that had nothing to do with the water, watching the loofah clutched in Gill's hand as it painted stripes down her sides and moved across her belly. Gill's red fingernails were coated in white foam, a sharp contrast, and the loofah tickled the sensitive skin above her hips and made her stomach ripple. Gill glanced up and smiled. She repeated the movement, just lightly, and laughed when Julie's skin quivered again. 

"Ticklish?" she asked, but didn't wait for a reply, sliding the loofah higher, following the line of Julie's ribcage up to her breasts, circling them, lathering them up to leave foamy peaks on her nipples. Gill's fingers glided through the suds to cup Julie's breasts, silky thumbs crushing the little clouds as they rolled across her nipples, and that, finally, brought Julie out of her daze. 

" _Gill_ ," Julie whispered, sliding her arm around Gill's waist to pull her close and feel their slippery skin rub together. She bent her head to pull Gill in for a kiss, deep and warm with the shower spray falling on their faces, and smoothed her hand down over Gill's backside to cup her arse. 

"Enough," Gill whispered when their kiss broke, smiling up at Julie, water droplets shimmering on her eyelashes. "I'm taking care of you, remember?" Her voice dropped an octave when she spoke again, a simple smouldering order: "Turn around."

Julie, all of a sudden weak in the knees, obeyed, propping one hand against the tiled wall to steady herself as Gill squirted some more shower gel onto the loofah and reached up to soap Julie's back. Julie felt the soft sponge drag across her shoulders, felt herself turn to jelly as Gill's fingers trailed after it. Down her back it moved, Gill's fingers following, tracing her shoulder blade then curling around beneath her arm to toy with her nipple again. 

Julie groaned. "We don't have time for this, Gill."

"Time for what?" Gill asked from behind her, voice all innocence, as the loofah worked its way down her spine to draw circles on her arse. Gill's hand came after, cupping one of Julie's cheeks and spreading them apart so the hot, soapy water trickled down between.

Julie's next groan was more of a growl. She pushed herself back into Gill's hand. "You'd better be planning on finishing what you start."

"Hm," Gill murmured, but Julie could hear the amusement in it, knew exactly what shape the smug little smile on Gill's face would be. Gill squeezed, raked her fingernails up over Julie's arse, and Julie's eyes closed as she dropped her head back onto her shoulders and felt the shower spray her face. "Lean forward," Gill instructed. "Spread your legs."

Julie did as she was told, lifting her other hand to press against the tiles and shifting her heel to widen her stance. Gill was the first of Julie's lovers to ever order her around, and by god did she love it. Maybe she wouldn't have loved it in the past when she'd still felt she had something to prove - maybe she wouldn't have liked it at all coming from anyone else - but there was something about Gill being bossy and demanding that turned Julie's insides all molten. It was a tone of voice she usually only heard Gill use at work, although it had never been directed at her in that context. Something about the parallel, though - that ordering people about was such an innate part of Gill's personality that it sometimes slipped into her sexual self - really worked for Julie. Gill was meticulous and exacting as a professional, after all, and everyone who'd ever worked under her spoke fondly of how rewarding the experience was. Who wouldn't want to play her compliant underling? 

The loofah in Gill's hand traced the curve of Julie's hip, down the outside of her thigh, across the back of her knees and up again. When it reached her other hip, it slid around, following the line of her pelvis and tickling the slope of her belly before it slipped between her legs. Gill's free hand followed from the other side, curling around Julie's hipbone and tugging her back. Gill thrust herself against Julie's arse, a little wet slap of skin, before her hand took over from the loofah, gliding through the foam to feel out the shape of Julie's cunt. 

"Gill," Julie whispered, pushing herself against Gill's hand and feeling Gill press forward in answer, the swell of her breasts slick against Julie's back. Her arm around Julie was slippery as well, and her fingers satiny as they stroked Julie, wriggling in between her folds to find her clit. "Gill," Julie whispered again, aching, hips rolling into Gill's hand. The pad of Gill's finger pressed against Julie's clit, her hand cupping Julie's mound; the contact made a sucking, squelching noise that was almost obscene. "God," Julie whined.

"I'll finish what I start," Gill murmured, then pulled her hand away abruptly before flicking her fingers against Julie's sex in a sharp, wet slap. "But not here." Julie groaned, then whimpered as Gill pulled her hand away completely, unable to move for several moments, knees wobbly and hands trembling against the tiles. 

Gill reached up and detached the shower head from the wall, and then her hand was tracing over Julie's shoulders again, and the water was hot, a powerful pressure against Julie's skin as Gill rinsed the soap suds off her. Downward it moved to the small of her back, and Julie felt the warm water sluice down between her arse cheeks and drip from her already overheated sex. 

"Turn around," Gill said, gentler this time, and at her urging Julie managed it, pushing herself up and stumbling in a circle. Gill was smiling, eyes gentle, and with a soft touch she rubbed Julie down, rinsing her body until the water ran clear. "Come on," she said, replacing the shower head and shutting off the water, taking Julie by the hand and guiding her out of the shower stall.

Julie didn't know what to do with this care. She could barely think at all, still throbbing and aching with need. Gill plucked a fluffy towel from the rack and dried her off, rubbing her shoulders and toweling her hair in an act that would have felt almost motherly if not for the way the soft fabric dragged across Julie's rock-hard nipples and the way Gill's hand lingered at her hips.

When Julie was dry - trembling, but dry - Gill gave herself a quick rubdown and then let the towel fall to the floor, taking Julie's hands again and pulling her out into the bedroom. It felt dreamlike to Julie, unreal, the soft carpet beneath her feet and the cool air against the back of her neck as Gill led her over to the bed and directed her to sit down on its edge. When Julie obeyed, Gill kissed her, one hand twining fingers into her damp hair and the other sliding over her shoulder and down to cup her breast and thumb her nipple again.

Julie couldn't speak, could only whimper into the kiss and arch herself against Gill's hand, reduced to incoherent noises and silent begging. When Gill broke the kiss, Julie looked up at her, eyes pleading, and found Gill gazing down at her looking suddenly uncertain. "I want…" Gill whispered. "I've never done this before."

Never…? The thought swam in Julie's mind, formless and uncomprehended, but Gill's thumb stroked her throat, and then she dropped both hands to grip Julie's knees. She pushed them apart as she lowered herself to the floor, and then Julie understood, her breath heavy as she watched Gill settle, sliding her hands down to cup Julie's calves and spread her legs wider. Gill pressed a kiss against Julie's thigh and nuzzled it with her cheek, lifting her gaze to meet Julie's. "May I?" she asked, coy.

Julie would have laughed if she weren't so overwhelmed. She'd been waiting months for Gill to be ready for this, months. She'd reassured Gill that no, she wouldn't be assigning a score out of ten based on her previous partners, and yes, it really was fine for Gill to wait until she was confident and relaxed and into it. And now it was finally happening, Gill kneeling in front of her and wetting her lips, and Julie didn't have a single scrap of language with which to encourage her. She managed a nod, a wobbly sort of smile, and reached out to slide her fingers into Gill's hair. 

Gill returned the smile, kissed Julie's thigh again. "You smell so clean," she whispered, trailing her nose along Julie's skin, "it's almost a shame. Still," the kisses moved higher, "I'm sure you taste the same on the inside." Gill's mouth was slow, torturously so, and Julie tightened her grip in Gill's hair just a little, giving it a tug. Gill laughed, turning her face to kiss the opposite thigh, looked up at Julie. "It's only been about thirty years since you first did this for me. What's the hurry?" She was close enough that Julie could feel the heat of her breath; Julie let out a whine and her fingers twitched against Gill's scalp. Gill held her gaze for just a moment longer, then turned it downward, leaning forward and opening her mouth against Julie's cunt.

Julie's hand fisted in the duvet. Her head fell back onto her shoulders and her throat made a noise that was half moan and half sigh of relief. Gill licked her, hands sliding up to hook around her thighs and hold them open as her tongue explored, tentative at first, slow. She seemed uncertain, and Julie made the effort to right her head, looked down, smoothing her fingers through Gill's hair and tracing an ear with her thumb. She canted her hips, murmured encouragement, and with that attention Gill's confidence seemed to grow, her attention becoming more focussed, jaw working, answering Julie's incoherent voice with the hungry, sucking sounds her mouth made as it turned devouring.

Julie groaned. She was hot in the cheeks, flushed and desperate; the air felt thick as she drew it into her lungs. She shifted her hips, letting one foot find proper purchase on the floor and stretching her other out further, letting Gill catch it and hold it there, her legs spread wide and heel aloft. She arched her back, looked down at Gill, kneeling in supplication and performing worship with her mouth, and she cradled Gill's head there, hips jerking and muscles twitching.

Gill's tongue pushed past them, curled into her, and it was almost more than Julie could take. She heard herself making noises, wild and inarticulate, felt her fingers fist in Gill's hair, looked at Gill's face buried in her mound and thought she could die like this, right here, with her cunt quivering and Gill's tongue fucking her like it was the most important thing she would ever do. 

And then Gill looked up at her. She didn't break her stride, didn't even pause, but her eyes lifted to meet Julie's and they were wicked and hot, proud and knowing, and Julie could _feel_ her mouth smiling around that curling tongue. Julie lost it. Arching and shuddering, she came, clutching Gill's head and holding it there as her eyes squeezed closed and her hips jerked and she just ground herself against Gill's face, mindless and greedy and burning.

When she came back to herself, she was slumped forward, fingers still in Gill's hair but her grip loosened. She opened her eyes and found Gill looking up at her, head resting against her thigh and mouth glistening. 

"Hi," Gill whispered, smiling. 

"Hi," Julie breathed, relieved to find that her voice was finally working again. 

"All right?" Gill asked, and Julie nodded weakly, smoothing Gill's hair back and tucking it behind her ear. 

"Come up here," she said, offering Gill her hands. Gill took them, levering herself up from the floor as Julie scooted back, tugging Gill with her, and a moment later they were collapsed on the bed, warm and tangled. 

"Gill," Julie murmured, sliding a hand up her back. The other skated over her ribcage and up to cover her breast. Gill, smiling, leaned down to kiss Julie with a mouth that tasted of sex, humming approval as Julie played with her nipple. A moment later, though, her fingers slipped around Julie's wrist, tugging her hand away and pinning it to the covers. 

"None of that," Gill said, thumb massaging Julie's wrist. "I'm taking care of you." 

Julie smiled. "You've done that. Quite admirably, I might add." She let her left hand stay pinned to the covers but Gill hadn't done anything about the right, so Julie turned it over and let the backs of her nails trail down Gill's spine. 

"It's kind of satisfying, isn't it? Giving with no expectation of getting? I feel all warm and pleased." Gill said all this even as her skin twitched under Julie's touch. 

Julie's hand slid over the curve of Gill's arse. "Could make you even more pleased," she said, middle finger tracing the crease of Gill's cheeks but stopping short of slipping any lower.

Gill blinked, bit her lip, but opened her eyes and kissed Julie again. "Maybe later," she said. "Think I'll keep this for a while. Besides, I'm hungry."

"Oh god," Julie groaned. Gill had distracted her so successfully that she'd forgotten all about their dinner reservation. She craned her head back against the covers to look at the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly seven. "We are so late."

"Too late," Gill agreed, releasing Julie's wrist and pushing herself up to sit. "We'll never get there by half-past. I can make us something for dinner."

"If we hurry we can make it," Julie said, pushing herself up as well.

"It's a twenty minute drive," Gill said. "At least." She reached for her dressing gown, which she'd left on the end of the bed. 

"It's Thursday; hopefully they won't be too busy. I'll give them a call, see if they can hold the table 'til eight." Julie's phone was in the pocket of her jacket, hanging on the chair in the corner. She made a move to retrieve it, but Gill was already tying her dressing gown closed.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "Eight's still pushing it by the time we both get ready. I'll rustle something up, and we can go out some other time. I'm not worried." She disappeared out the door before Julie had a chance to respond, leaving Julie feeling suddenly strange, standing by the chair with her fingers closing around the phone in her pocket, air cool against her naked skin.

"I am," she said to Gill's absence. 

She dropped her phone onto the bed, crossed the room to retrieve her own dressing gown from the hook on the back of the bedroom door. She needed to put something on, but it felt like defeat as she wrapped it around her shoulders, drab in comparison to the suit she'd brought with her. She'd picked a shirt with French cuffs, some silver stud cufflinks; she'd even chosen the suit with the waistcoat. She had been looking forward to this night all week, the chance to finally go out with Gill, _be seen_ with Gill, even if not by anyone they knew. It was important to her. 

Julie crawled back onto the bed, picked up her phone. She considered calling the restaurant anyway to see how late they could be, but if Gill had already started cooking something… Julie dropped her phone back onto the bed. She knew she should ring the restaurant anyway, cancel the table, but she couldn't face the thought. If she tried to say those words she thought she might burst into tears. 

Teary. That was how she felt: queasy with disappointment, cold. She tugged a leg up toward her chest, wrapped an arm around it, glanced down at the black mirror of her phone screen and saw herself peering back, looking forlorn. She'd just had an orgasm, for Christ's sake; why did this dinner matter so much?

Because it did. Because she'd had numerous orgasms by Gill's hand - albeit none by her mouth before - but they'd never been out together as a couple, not properly. Because Gill was so cavalier, too cavalier, but she'd run out of here like someone desperately trying to avoid something she didn't want to do. Because now Julie couldn't help but think that out to dinner was somewhere Gill hadn't wanted to go in the first place, and she'd done that little shower routine and everything that followed as a diversionary tactic to avoid it. And because that wasn't okay, it was so far from okay, and now that the thought was in Julie's head she felt a bit manipulated.

Julie was still sitting there when Gill returned carrying a tray laden with two bowls, two glasses and a bottle of wine. "I managed pasta," she said, sliding the tray onto her dresser and setting about pouring the wine. "Nothing fancy, but I had chicken and pesto and feta in the fridge, so it shouldn't be too awful." 

Julie said nothing, watching Gill as she carried on oblivious, scrutinising her ease. It seemed put-on, too chipper, but Julie wasn't sure if she was being unkind, comparing Gill's mood with her own and finding fault through contrast. She took the wine glass when it was offered, set it on the stand, took the bowl although she didn't feel hungry at all. Maybe she was - she couldn't really remember how long it had been since she'd eaten that day. There'd been a sandwich in there somewhere, she thought, but she didn't know when, and perhaps all she needed to feel less suspicious was some food in her belly. 

They ate. Gill wolfed hers down, and Julie was sure it must be good, but she barely tasted it. Every mouthful was just salt to her, difficult to swallow, and she gave up trying to enjoy it halfway through, instead just picking at individual strands of spaghetti and watching the way they twined around her fork. The wine was a little better - made her throat feel less dry, at least - but this was definitely not a sustenance problem. 

"Day still with you?" Gill asked, when Julie had gone too long without saying anything. 

"No," Julie answered, setting the bowl aside, surprising herself with how true that was. Her day hadn't even entered her thoughts, was barely even on the radar anymore. No, the shower had washed that away after all, but this thing was heavier. 

"Then what…?" Gill asked, and Julie finally looked up.

"It mattered to _me_ , Gill," she said. "Taking you out. Why didn't you let me call them?"

Gill looked startled, put on the spot. "I just thought with the time...it would be easier." She was holding her empty bowl in her hands, frozen in place. It was a stark contrast to how animated she usually was when she spoke. 

Julie shook her head. "I don't believe you," she said, and it made her heart ache to speak that aloud, seemed to erode something. "I think you didn't want to go."

Gill's eyes were large, her mouth opened. "I did. I do, just…"

"Not tonight?" Julie asked, finishing the sentence when Gill couldn't. "Not a month ago, not now. When?"

" _Soon_ ," Gill insisted, her cheeks turning pink. "I just panicked."

Julie wasn't having it. "About what? The crowded restaurant, or being seen to be on a date with me? Because you keep insisting that you're fine, so I can only assume the latter, and I need more than that. I need someone who's as proud to be with me as I am to be with them." She knew she'd fallen hard, she really did, but she didn't think dinner was too much to ask. 

"I…" Gill whispered, but floundered again, so Julie filled the silence, feeling the words welling up in her now that she'd spoken.

"And you couldn't even be honest with me. You didn't say it. You came into the shower instead and distracted me until it was late enough to beg off. How cheap do you think that makes me feel, Gill? Just offer me sex and it'll all be okay, I won't even notice." 

"It wasn't like _that_ ," Gill said, finally managing a complete sentence.

Julie felt red in the cheeks herself, now, the queasiness burning away as she let anger take over. "Really? How was it, then? Describe it to me, your thought process." It felt satisfying and necessary to get this out. She'd been so careful with Gill for so long. 

"You were worn out!" Gill exclaimed, and there were the hand gestures. The fork clattered in Gill's empty bowl as she let it fall into her lap and her hands flung up defensively. "I just wanted to take care of you! You've taken such good care of me, been so patient, and I thought…" Her hands stilled and she looked suddenly stricken, ill with it.

The fight went out of Julie, a quickly stoked fire smothered by the sight of Gill's distress. She didn't want this, not at all, but she needed to know what was going on in Gill's head. 

"Thought what?" Julie's voice was considerably softer when she spoke again.

Gill sounded broken when she answered. "Thought you'd keep being patient with me if I gave you something back." She covered her face with a hand, dragged it down to her mouth. "God, that's awful, isn't it? I sound like Dave, using intimacy as a bargaining chip."

Julie took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment. Her chest felt tight and sore, her breath raw. When she looked at Gill again, her gaze felt heavy. "You're not like him, Gill. It's not awful. But I… I don't think it's healthy, either." She sighed. "I don't know if we can keep doing this."

"Why," Gill whispered. It didn't sound like a question, didn't even sound like disagreement, just an attempt to understand.

Julie shook her head, looked down at her hands. They were curled in her lap, shaking, but she had to say this. "I don't know why you didn't want to go out tonight. I don't know whether it's us or you, but I don't think that matters, really. Either way, it's not working. You seem to be afraid of being seen with me, afraid to own this, and I can't do that. I came out a long time ago, and I won't go back into the closet, Gill, not even for you. And if it is something deeper, if you're not fine and you can't be honest with me about that, then that's worse. Because if that's it, it means I'm not being patient with your recovery, I'm being patient with your excuses, and that's no good for either of us." She toyed with the hem of her dressing gown, couldn't bare to look up and see the look on Gill's face.

Gill took several moments to reply. "I do want to be with you, Julie. I mean that."

Julie swallowed. Her throat felt thick. "I believe you," she whispered, hoarse, and finally lifted her gaze to meet Gill's. Her eyes were like an ocean, deep and sad, but Julie forced herself to look, because owning this action was important, too. "I don't want this to be over, either." Even now, she wanted to reach out, wanted that familiar tactile comfort they'd always been so easy with, but that seemed wrong here. She pushed herself to speak again. "But is this a symptom of what's going on in your head, or do we want different things? Why do you think this happened?"

It was a dreadful, hanging sort of question. Julie watched Gill, found herself hoping that Gill would say she was still struggling, that things were still muddled and desperate and that she needed time to keep working it out. Julie could do that, she could be the support; it terrified her how desperately she wanted that to be it, for Gill to not be fine so that she could go on ignoring her own needs and putting herself second. She could, she would; all Gill needed to do was ask.

But Gill shook her head. "I don't know," she said.

Julie sighed, a heavy breath that deflated her lungs. She felt drained all of a sudden, heavy and sad. "Then I can't do this, Gill. I don't want to just share your bed, I want to share your life. And if you can't explain, if you're not even willing to try… If this is all there is, it's not enough for me."

"What if there is more?" Gill whispered "What if there can be?" There was a sort of desperation in Gill's eyes, a fear Julie couldn't interpret. That she shouldn't have to interpret. This wasn't a game of fucking smoke signals.

"Then you need to work out what it is that's holding you back, and call me when you figure it out." Julie shifted toward the edge of the bed.

"Julie," Gill whispered, "Slap."

Tears stung at Julie's eyes; she hesitated on the edge of the bed. Every fiber of her physicality wanted to turn around, forget all of it, bury her words somewhere deep and just pretend for another minute, another day, another year. But that wasn't her, and it wouldn't be them. Julie knew how that story ended, and it wasn't with a thirty-five year friendship intact. "I'm sorry," she said, pushing herself up. 

Julie's vision was blurry as she redressed herself, hands shaking as she zipped her trousers and pulled her shoes back on. She was trying to rebutton her shirt with trembling fingers when Gill spoke again.

"Julie?" She sounded shaky too, like a terrified little girl. Julie looked up. Gill seemed tiny in that moment, lost and alone in the big bed with her legs curled up and her hands limp in her lap. But when she spoke again her voice held a fierce sort of fragility, like she'd gathered up her courage to seek clarification. "What if this is it? What if I can't be what you need?"

Julie finally managed to get her top button done up, swallowed against her roiling insides. Was this her fault, too? Had she made the same mistake with Gill that she'd made with so many others, imagined their relationship into more than it was, dreamt Gill into someone she wasn't capable of being? 

Julie didn't know. All this articulate thought and ultimately she was just as unable to understand herself as Gill. She was too close to see; maybe they both were. The thought galvanised Julie, settled her. They both needed time and space to figure out how they felt and what was important to them, and Julie would give them that, no matter how much it hurt. Or how terrifying it was. What if they did decide that it couldn't work?

Julie straightened her cuffs. "Then we go back to how we were before," she said, "to a place where we were both comfortable. To being friends."

Right at that moment, it seemed impossible. With her hands steadying and her jaw setting even as her chest ached and her legs refused to shift, Julie looked at the distance between them and it seemed unfathomable, altered forever. But she had to say it, had to believe they could achieve that. Gill meant too much to her for her to consider anything less.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this final chapter! My thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story throughout posting and left feedback in any form. My apologies for how long it went between updates and I love all of you for the continued support.

**vi.**

By midnight, the conversations have petered out a bit, and Julie finds herself quiet. She's not sitting alone - rather on the edge of a booth where a few colleagues she hadn't yet spoken to had invited her to sit half an hour earlier - but she can only half hear them over the jukebox, and she doesn't have much to add to the conversation anyway. So Julie finds herself people-watching, nursing her pint and wondering if she should finish it and go, enjoy the night for what it was and say goodbye. 

Other people have. The lads from Duke Street left about an hour ago, ostensibly home but probably off to some club in the city and just being polite about it, and Julie doesn't think it'll be long before Rachel Bailey and Will Pemberton make tracks. Julie's sneaked glances at them since she and Rachel spoke, checking in, fancying herself a sort of unofficial wingwoman, ensuring Rachel's chances aren't jeopardised by some overly eager junior sidling over to bend Pemberton's ear for an hour. They seem to be doing fine, though, so Julie wonders if it might be time for her to call it a night. 

She's certainly drunk enough. Five shots in as many hours and a pint to chase each of them, and she still feels coherent but she knows she's probably only a drink or two away from disgracing herself. She _should_ go, but even knowing that Julie finds herself unwilling to rise from her seat or drain her pint any faster, and in the end she does know why.

She hasn't really spoken to Gill. Across-the-room banter aside, they've barely said a word to each other, and that isn't the way Julie wants to end her night. It's typical, of course - this is Gill's party, and her attention has been in high demand all night with people arriving and departing and wishing her well - but Julie had hoped they might grab a few moments at least, if only to re-establish where they stood as friends.

Gill had never called her. Oh, scratch that, she _had_ , but only to ask, completely out of the blue, if Julie would attend the police awards gala in her stead. Julie had misconstrued that phone call horribly. _Is this the moment?_ she remembers thinking, immediately hoping that this was Gill's way of mending some bridges, asking Julie to attend a public function with her, stepping off that to wherever it took them. But of course it hadn't been, it had been Gill asking her to attend the function _in place_ of her, as if Julie accepting that award on Gill's behalf would not have been in the worst taste imaginable. As if the last proper conversation they'd had hadn't torn them both to pieces.

Julie hadn't known what to make of that. Was it Gill's way of indicating, however obtusely, that she was sorry but she wanted to take Julie up on Option B, and just go back to being friends? Or was there something larger at play? God alone knew why the department had thought that presenting an award to someone for surviving the attack of a traumatised woman who should never have been charged in the first place was a good idea. Julie fully understood why Gill was reticent about accepting it, but what she didn't know was why Gill thought it in any way appropriate to ask _her_ to attend instead. Whatever Gill's reasons, it had still felt like communicating in smoke signals to Julie, so, frustrated and disappointed, she'd refused, hung up the phone, and not called back. 

Which meant of course that the next time she spoke to Gill was after Janet's disturbing phone call, playing the far-too-casual game herself as she tried to juggle their recent history with her professional obligation to Gill and her team. It was the most uncomfortable conversation they'd ever had, ignoring a room full of elephants so effectively that Julie wasn't sure they'd said a single meaningful word. There had been the reference to people on her team being worried about her, Julie remembers that, though she had avoided the drinking issue completely. Possibly the word 'erratic' had been in there somewhere. Gill, for her part, had been cooly flippant and stiff as a post, shoulders so straight Julie could have balanced a ruler on them. "I'm sure they mean well," she remembers Gill saying, pointedly typing an email as she spoke, "but I'm fine. I'll try and be more _consistent_ for them." That had been as far as the conversation went.

Gill and Julie's relationship has remained in a state of limbo ever since. Julie knows, now, that Gill was not fine, couldn't possibly have been, but in the absence of an honest conversation about it, she can't see that any of her reasons for taking a step back have changed. Those last few weeks had shown Julie that Gill was willing to lie to her at work - though not, Julie suspected, any more than she was lying to herself. Even so, it didn't exactly exactly fill her with confidence when it came to their personal lives. But Julie doesn't want to grow resentful, and so has resolved to accept Gill's lack of response as a statement of its own and just get on with being her friend again. It's worked, mostly - Julie is, after all, relatively used to the sensation of wanting more from Gill than she's willing to give, of drawing boundaries around her feelings to protect herself - but it does feel different enough this time that she'd like some proper closure. 

"All right, Slap?" 

Julie looks up. As if summoned by her thoughts, Gill is standing beside her, elbow propped against the top of the booth and glass of wine in hand. She smiles. "Care to fall off the wagon with me?" She's holding two cigarettes in her free hand. 

"Where'd you get those?" Julie asks, dumb and full of alcohol.

"Mitch," Gill answers, apparently not noticing the stupidity of the question. "He was loathe to part with two, but when I said you looked like you needed one too, he agreed. You coming?"

A smoke. Outside on the balcony, away from the noise and the eyes of the other guests. Julie looks up at Gill and her stance is casual but her eyes are thoughtful; seems that's part of the plan. Is this the moment Julie has been waiting for?

"All right," she says, unfolding herself from her seat. She's been so quiet that her companions barely notice her farewell. 

As she and Gill move toward the door that leads to the balcony, Julie catches Mary's gaze following them. They make eye contact, momentary but meaningful, and Mary pushes herself out of her seat as they pass. From the corner of her eye Julie sees Mary circle, following them toward the door, and as they slip out onto the balcony she notices Janet converging as well, greeting Mary as they take position in front of the doors, no doubt ready to run interference if anyone else should try to slip outside. Julie can't help but smile as she pulls the door closed - apparently there's an entire squadron of wingwomen here tonight. 

Once outside, Julie follows Gill over to the edge of the balcony and sets her pint down on the table beside them. They don't sit down. Instead, Gill balances her wine glass on the balcony rail and passes Julie one of the cigarettes. She lights her own then extends the small flame toward Julie, who leans in to use it.

Smokes lit, they right themselves, standing in silence for several moments and staring out at the night. The first puff makes Julie heady; her brain does an alcoholic spin and she curls a hand around the balcony rail to anchor herself. It passes by the time she takes the second puff, and she looks around, appreciating the tiny fairy lights decorating the outdoor area and studying Gill's face in profile. Out here alone she looks thoughtful, neither tense nor relaxed, just quiet. Perhaps open.

But Gill has made the first move. It's up to Julie, now, to make the second. 

She starts small. "So, how does it feel, making it official? What's being a _retiree_ like?"

Gill glances sideways at Julie, smiles. "Strange," she answers, sounding unguarded for the first time in months. "A little bit scary. But necessary, I think. I lost my confidence and I'd had enough."

Julie takes a drag on her cigarette, nods. "Does it feel right?" she asks.

"Not quite yet," Gill says, taking a puff of her own. "But it doesn't feel wrong, either. I wanted to give myself some time. I spent months asking you to, then I realised I wasn't giving myself any. Now I have it; I can re-evaluate, figure out what it is I really want."

Julie smiles around a sip of beer. "You _know_ , you could have done _that_ by taking leave." It's sly, teasing - the first comment of its kind, Julie realises with a pang, that she's made since that difficult conversation. It feels at once strange and as easy as breathing - easy because it's familiar, strange because she's noticed it, and she never used to. She lets it hang, though, tries to be comfortable with this vague awkwardness, and after a moment Gill rewards her with a grin.

"Have you ever known me to do something by halves, once I made a decision?" she asks.

"I suppose not," Julie replies, remembering how hard-headed Gill had been when she'd finally decided to turf Dave, and then, unbidden, the memory of that look in her eyes the last time they'd been together flashes into Julie's mind: Gill all secret and pleased with her mouth all over Julie's cunt. 

_Not helpful._ Julie wrenches herself away from the thought. 

They fall into silence for another few moments. Gill picks up her wine glass and takes a sip, lays it back down again. Julie reaches over the balcony and taps the ash off the end of her cigarette. 

"Do you still need it?" she asks, quietly, once she's had another puff and a sip of her beer. "Time? From me?" Laying her drink down, Julie curls her fingers around the railing again, tries not to grip it even though she's bracing. 

Gill takes a draw on her smoke, exhales a stream into the night air before she replies, just as quiet: "Are you waiting?"

Julie laughs, a wry gust of breath from an aching chest. "Of course I am," she says. "Did you think I wouldn't?"

Gill leans against the balcony rail. "I wasn't sure, not after that conversation we had about the awards do."

Julie sighs. "I didn't know what that conversation _was_ , Gill. I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't know what you were asking me for."

Gill hesitates. "I think," she says, glancing off into the distance for a moment before returning her gaze to Julie, "I think I was asking for help. It was the weirdest night, and I got so pissed I'm lucky I didn't fall over onstage. I didn't want an award. I didn't want to face it."

"You could have told me _that_ ," Julie says, resisting the urge to shake her head. 'Daft cow' also goes unspoken. 

"I know," Gill says, giving her own head a shake. "I know. But I couldn't, I wasn't… Suppose it took me being publicly humiliated to realise what an idiot I've been. Lying to myself. Feels better now, though, with the weight off. I'm seeing someone again; a therapist."

"Oh?" That does surprise Julie.

"Yeah," Gill says, with a wry smile. "A woman this time, not on the police approved list, which honestly always bothered me. I've only been twice so far, but I like her better. She asked me what _I_ wanted out of the sessions, and we established no touchy-feely bollocks right from the start."

Julie laughs and it's an honest sound, warm and thankful. "That's good," she says. "Glad you found someone who fits."

"And no," Gill murmurs, almost without a pause for breath, sneaking the words into the conversation, "I don't need any more time."

It takes Julie a moment to catch up, slow and dopey with the booze and the sudden tight in her chest. "What does that...?" she manages, but by then Gill is already answering the question.

"I want to be with you. I didn't stop wanting that." Gill finishes her cigarette and flicks it over the railing, turns to face Julie properly. "I don't..." she starts, then breaks off, frustrated, glances at her wine glass as though she wants to reach for it to make the words come easier, but doesn't. "I'm not the most publicly demonstrative person, and I might not ever be. This is very new to me, really - being in a relationship that might make other people shocked, might draw attention. I'm working on being okay with that - it's one of the reasons I wanted to retire, honestly, thinking about how much the job has cost me over the years and realising it just wasn't that important to me anymore. There are other things that matter more than my - or at least how I always imagined my - professional reputation. But I need you to be okay with me not being as brave as you." Only when she's finished speaking does she reach for her wine glass, and she takes a careful sip instead of a gulp. 

It's a lot for Julie to take in, a lot for her brain to process in the state it's in. It occurs to her that this may not be the best time for this, with her half-cut and slow, but when have they ever waited for the right time? Her brain is still with her, works through all of it and begins to formulate a response. 

"I'm not brave," is what she starts with, in the end. "I made a choice a long time ago, is all, maybe the one you're making now, deciding which things were the most important. Choosing the way I did isn't really any braver than choosing what you did; they're just different." Julie's own cigarette is almost gone now. She takes a final drag on it and tosses the butt in the same direction Gill did. When she looks back at Gill, she finds her smiling, eyes a mixture of amusement and heart-stopping affection.

"Knowing that much about yourself is brave," Gill says. "Being that honest with yourself is brave. You give me a bit too much credit if you think I ever had difficult conversations with myself instead of just doing what was expected. You've always thought too much of me." Even in the half light Julie can see that there is colour in Gill's cheeks when she glances down at her wine and swirls the glass in her hand.

There's a great big something in Julie's chest, something hot and tight. The way Gill sees her is something she's never been able to account for. She feels like someone larger, someone better, when Gill looks at her like that. Her urge to reach out for Gill is almost painful, but she dampens it down, knows there's more she needs to say before she can.

"I think maybe I _expected_ too much of you," she says, "after everything, and knowing the way you are. Maybe I forgot how new it was and how hard it would be for you because I wanted it so badly, because it felt so right. I know we're different, I really do, but that's what…" She trails off, isn't sure what she wants to say. _What I love about you_ , maybe, but it feels too much, too heavy a word to use in this moment. It hangs there unspoken, though, in the air, and Julie lets it. "I don't think too much of you," she whispers, once she's left room for it. "You really are everything."

Gill smiles. "You're fucking pissed," she says, even though the warmth in her eyes belies her dismissive words. "But I'll take it." She sets her wine glass down again, takes a step toward Julie, reaches out a tentative hand and slides her fingers through Julie's. "I want to be braver for you," she says. "Come and dance with me?"

"All right," Julie murmurs, feeling Gill's grip settle into hers, warm and steady. "Better do something to stop Mary and Janet from pressing their faces against the window."

"Are they?" Gill asks, but doesn't turn around. 

Julie laughs, gives the interior a quick scan. "No. But give it five minutes."

"Well, we can't have that," Gill murmurs. She's close now, Julie realises, close enough to lean down and kiss. Julie hesitates, though, mindful of Gill's boundaries, and the moment passes. Gill steps back, giving Julie's hand a tug. "Come," she says, leading the way. Julie, feeling dazed, follows. 

They leave their drinks behind. As they slip back inside, Gill doesn't release Julie's hand, and they pass by Mary and Janet without a word. Julie can feel their eyes, can imagine the triumphant smiles on their faces, but Gill is moving much too purposefully for her to turn around and look. They slip around tables and then weave through the small crowd at the bar, one of whom is Mitch. Gill pauses for a moment to hand his lighter back. 

"Going to have a dance," she says, though, precluding interruption, and Mitch just smiles and lifts his eyebrows. 

"Righto," he says, and they move on. 

Gill pulls Julie onto the floor. The song is familiar - a bit too recent for Julie to be able to identify it, but familiar. That doesn't matter, though, because Gill is shifting her grip in Julie's hand to tug it upright, and her next move pulls Julie in close. 

"Come on, you big drunk dinosaur," she says, smiling, "dance with me."

That pulls Julie out of her stupor. "Dinosaur?" she challenges, sliding her free hand around Gill's waist. "Aren't you the retired Godzilla?"

Gill smirks. "Godzilla's a monster. Lots more powers. I'm a retired monster."

"Terrifying," Julie quips, turning Gill in a circle. "What does a retired monster do, anyway? Does she give up being a monster and learn to ice cupcakes, or does she downsize from levelling cities to roaring at lazy retail workers and incompetent drivers?"

"Maybe she just goes independent," Gill says, letting her hand curl around Julie's arm. "Rents herself out for children's birthday parties. Lights the candles with her breath and rips down the bouncy castle. That sort of thing."

"Demonstrates correct tail-lashing technique to budding young monsters," Julie agrees, as they find the rhythm. "Yeah, I like that."

"Glad you approve." Gill smiles. 

They dance. Julie is drunk and clumsy so she's not the smoothest she's ever been, but that hardly matters. They ease into the first song, a semi-slow pop number that's easy enough to move to, but when that fades out they find that someone has picked a rock 'n roll track, so they pick up the pace. 

"Who's the oldie?" Gill wonders, but it's fun to dance to. They lose their snug pose, keep their hands clasped, turn into creatures made of bouncing feet and swinging hips. There is a smile on Gill's face and Julie can feel herself grinning in answer, can feel her heart start to beat faster with the exertion, shaking off the sluggishness of the booze and lightening her feet.They swing apart, come back together, catch each other's empty hands and jive.

The song is energetic and fun, undemanding, but there's still a thrill in it, in dancing in this pub with Gill. Julie doesn't want to waste it. She spins Gill around and catches her about the waist, holds her there and sways with her for a few seconds so they can both see their colleagues and friends not bothered in the slightest by their closeness, barely even noticing. Gill moves with her, warm and energetic, then without warning arches her back, pushing her arse back into Julie and grinding against her. Julie jerks, making a noise of surprise that must be audible over the music, because Gill is laughing as she spins back around, catching herself with an arm around Julie's neck.

"Too much?" she asks, pulling Julie down a little so her voice and breath wriggles into Julie's ear. 

Julie bends her head to whisper right back: "Not really; just surprised me is all. I like your bum." For emphasis, she lets her hand drop from Gill's waist to give the bum in question a squeeze, grinning when Gill gives a little self-conscious squeak and pulls back to dislodge her hand. She's smiling, though, eyes all fire and cheek, and somehow her grip on Julie's other hand seems even warmer as they resume dancing at a respectable distance.

This. This is everything Julie wanted those months ago, is everything she could have asked for for this night. She lifts her hand and twirls Gill beneath it, feels the music vibrate up through her toes. Gill's cheeks are pink and her hair swings and bounces as she moves, and her unbridled enthusiasm fills Julie up with a wild sort of joy. They are here and they are dancing together and they don't care what anyone thinks about it. It's exhilarating and honest and right. With a grin, Gill lifts her own hand and invites Julie to twirl. Julie does, but her feet are more enthusiastic than her head, and swinging back to get under Gill's arm makes it spin. She stumbles on her way out of the turn, lurches sideways, but Gill's fingers pull her up, arm catching her by the waist, tugging her close to keep her upright.

"Bit drunk for that one, were you?" Gill asks, amused, palm flattening against Julie's back. They sway together while Julie recovers.

"Apparently," Julie agrees, dizzy. "Might need to slow down a bit."

"We can do that," Gill murmurs, letting them fall out of time with the music. Her body is pressed tight to Julie's, using all of her leverage to keep Julie upright, but even when Julie's balance returns she doesn't pull away. The song ends, and the next one up is slower, sinuous and full of bass. Gill's hand finally releases Julie's and slides onto her shoulder instead, the other joining it a moment later to curl around the back of her neck. "This is good too," she says, stretching herself out along Julie's body.

"It is," Julie breathes, feeling her voice more than hearing it. Gill smiles up at her, and Julie finds that her hands are trembling when she lays them on Gill's hips. 

It definitely is. Gill's body is firm against her, radiating heat. Julie's senses feel amplified by the booze. Here is the warm swell of breasts against her body, there the coarseness of denim beneath her palms. Maybe her head is still spinning a bit after all, because she feels like that, like she's floating, anchored only by touch and the humming notes of the song. It's got to be the booze, must be, because why else would she suddenly feel this way? Julie has danced with dozens of women in her lifetime, both lovers and strangers, and yet here she is, acutely conscious of the curve of Gill's hips under her hands, feeling like a teenager at her first disco. 

"You're going pink," Gill observes, looking up at her, a wicked twinkle in her eye.

"Am I?" Julie asks, affecting ease, but of course it's a lie, and of course Gill's notice only makes the heat in her cheeks intensify. Gill's smile widens, and Julie laughs, concedes, dropping her head to hide her blush in Gill's shoulder and hair. "You do have that effect on me," she murmurs in Gill's ear. 

But Gill won't accept Julie's bashfulness, turns her head so her nose brushes Julie's cheek. "Good," she says. "Because I'm all in, so I hope this means as much to you as it does to me." Her fingers slide up into Julie's hair, steer her around, and then Gill is kissing her, warm and long and slow, and Julie's head spins away completely.

*

Sometime later - could be half an hour, could be half a year - the last jukebox song ends. As the final bars fade out, brighter lights flicker on to signal closing time, and Gill and Julie return to the world.

"I suppose that means I should say goodbye to people," Gill says, lifting her head from the curve of Julie's neck where it's been nestled throughout the last two slow songs. 

"A real goodbye," Julie agrees, loosening her hold on Gill's waist. 

Gill nods. "Strange thought," she says, blinking. "Come with me?"

Julie smiles. "Of course."

They make the rounds. There are few enough still standing, but even so Gill endures more hugs and sloppy cheek kisses than she's probably ever consented to before in her life. Julie's presence by her side earns them a few knowing looks, but there is very little awkwardness, just some pointedly enthusiastic well-wishing. By the time they find their way around to Mary and Janet - they're sitting together by this point, which is a little bit terrifying given that their shared knowledge of and ability to decipher clues about Gill and Julie's history is probably enough to write a tell-all memoir - Gill is looking slightly overwhelmed by the strange reality of farewelling her colleagues for the last time. 

"All right?" Julie asks, nudging Gill's shoulder with her own. 

Gill looks up at her and smiles. "Yeah," she answers, "I'm good." Even so, her fingers find Julie's again a moment later, curl into them for strength or reassurance, and that is how they approach their two old friends. 

Mary's not one for subtle glances. She takes one look at them, drains her wine glass and says, "I see you two finally got your act together. Hallelujah; only took you thirty-odd years."

Julie arches an eyebrow and Gill smiles, but neither of them respond.

"Thanks for coming," Gill says, in the end. "And thank you for the speech, Janet."

Janet rises from her seat. "You'll notice I didn't mention that birthday," she says, and Gill laughs as she releases Julie's hand and accepts yet another hug.

"Bloody lucky you didn't," Gill says. "I could still kill you and make it look like an accident, retired or not."

They pull back. "Rachel said to say goodbye," Janet says. "She and Will Pemberton left about half an hour ago. She wanted to come and say it herself, but she didn't want to interrupt."

For the first time since they came back inside, Gill's cheeks turn pink. "Suppose I owe her an apology," she says, "telling her off for fraternising with a senior officer. Bit hypocritical."

"Hey," Julie says, giving Gill a nudge, "you're retired. I'm not your senior anything anymore."

""Cept in age," Mary pipes up, grinning.

"Always a little ray of sunshine, you," Julie retorts. 

"I'm the realist at any gathering," she says, but then slides out of her seat to give Gill her own farewell hug. "Have fun spending all that extra time in bed. Oh, and sleeping more, too." Mary grins and Gill laughs and shakes her head. "And if it ever feels a bit too pleasant, you can always come visit me at work and I'll wheel out a particularly nasty corpse for you."

Gill laughs again. "As enticing as that is, Mary, I don't think I'll get sick of the pleasure any time soon." She glances at Julie with a secretive smile and eyes that turn smouldering, and the gesture is so confident and possessive that Julie nearly melts into the floor. Good god, she could get very, _very_ used to this side of Gill. 

Goodbyes complete, Gill and Julie allow themselves to be herded out of the pub by the staff. Julie feels like she is more clear-headed as they leave - the dancing has evaporated some of the alcohol - but when the night air hits them her feet don't seem to agree, stumbling on the step down to the street and only avoiding falling off her heels because Gill's hand, lightning fast, shoots out to catch her around the waist.

"Steady on," Gill says, hand hooking around Julie's hip as the other catches her arm. "Bloody hell, you're hammered." Her smile is crooked as she waits for Julie's balance to recover. When it has, Gill releases her, sliding an elbow through hers in lieu of the full-body bind. "It's been a long time since I was the one holding you up. Come on, I'm taking you home."

Julie grins, bumping Gill's hip as they fall in behind the others wandering up the street toward the cab rank. "I like the sound of that," she says.

Gill laughs. " _Putting_ you to bed rather than taking you to bed, Slap. I'm not in the habit of taking advantage of drunken ladies, not when I'm not there myself."

Julie knows she must be sobering up a little, if only because it finally occurs to her to wonder why Gill is so much less inebriated than her. "How come you're not?" she asks. "People must've been buying you drinks left and right tonight."

Gill smiles. "Didn't let them. After the way I left, I didn't think it would be the best look. It's good -" she punctuates her words by leaning into Julie for a moment and pressing a kiss against her shoulder "- proved to myself that I can still be brave without it."

There are a few cabs waiting at the rank. As the guest of honour, Gill gets first pickings, waved in by drunken cops behaving like knights to a queen. Joining in, Julie musters herself to open the door, waving theatrically for Gill to climb inside before following her, then promptly taking a few goes to get the door properly closed. 

Gill laughs at her. "Boozy cow," she says, reclining into her seat.

"Where to?" the cab driver asks, and Julie looks at Gill. 

"Your place or mine?" Gill asks, smiling.

Julie considers. "Hm, mine," she says, after a moment. "I've got bacon in the fridge for breakfast." She gives the driver her address. 

As they move off, Julie takes advantage of Gill's relaxed position, sidling up close and stretching one arm out along the back of the seat, dropping the other to curl around Gill's middle, fingers slipping under the flap of her jacket and settling against the silky fabric of her top. "I'm not _that_ drunk, you know," she murmurs, leaning down to nuzzle Gill's ear.

Gill hums in amusement. "I've doubts about your dexterity," she responds, but doesn't make any move to push Julie away. In fact, she cants her head to expose her throat, which Julie takes full advantage of, curling her hand back to drag Gill's hair out of the way with a thumb before her lips find Gill's jaw, trailing along it before moving down her neck, kissing and nibbling. 

"Am I convincing you?" she asks when she lifts her head again, fingers flexing against Gill's side.

Gill smiles, turns her head so her mouth is closer to Julie's but doesn't kiss it. "You're tempting," she says, "but do I need to remind you that we're in a taxi, and quite possibly on dash cam?" Gill lifts her chin in the direction of the driver, and Julie follows her gaze to note that there is indeed a camera attached to the rear-vision mirror. 

"Right," Julie murmurs. Suitably chastened, she sits up, resolves to keep her hands to herself. She lets her hand slide away from Gill's cheek and and stretches her arm back out along the top of the seat, makes to pull the other back into her lap.

"No," Gill protests, stopping her. "That's not what I meant." She peers at Julie for a moment, sincere, then smiles again and shifts in her seat, curling in against Julie's body and tucking her head under Julie's chin. "Just don't want to get arrested, is all," she murmurs. 

"Right," Julie says again, chuckling and feeling sheepish. She relaxes, lets her arm curl down around Gill's shoulder, feels them take a breath in tandem. "This is good too." 

They fall into silence, warm and comfortable. After a time, Julie becomes aware that her hand is still beneath Gill's jacket, and camera or no, she lets it creep up until her fingertips find Gill's nipple, slide back and forth against it. 

Gill hums her laughter. "Cheeky," she murmurs, but doesn't seem to mind at all.

*

Julie is so cozy and warm by the time the taxi reaches her place that she's half fallen asleep, head drowsy and thick as the car slows to a halt. She's grateful for Gill's sobriety, then, because she takes care of paying the driver and digging her keys out of her purse before Julie even has the chance to blink, and then she's nudging Julie out the door and making sure she hasn't left her bag behind.

"Come on, you," she says, catching Julie's elbow after the taxi's driven away, "up to bed."

By the time they reach the front steps, Julie feels more awake, but she's still careful as she navigates the stairs in her heels. When she reaches the top, Gill already has the door open, and they're barely inside before Julie kicks her shoes off, tugging the straps undone as she leans on the door for support. 

"Good idea," Gill says, watching her, eyeing the staircase that leads up to the bedrooms.

"Experience," Julie replies, shoving her shoes against the wall. 

Gill smiles. "Go up. I'll get us some big glasses of water, and maybe some painkillers for you." 

"Good idea," Julie says, grabbing the banister and pulling herself up the first step.

"Experience," Gill responds, disappearing toward the kitchen.

When Julie flicks her bedroom light on, she sighs. She forgot to make her bed this morning, and there's evidence of several party clothing choices tried on and rejected strewn across the sheets. Dropping her bag on her dresser and shedding her jacket, Julie fixes the room up, tossing the unworn clothes onto her chair and straightening the bedcovers. She uses the bathroom, brushes her teeth, hides this morning's half-drunk mug of tea behind a photo frame, and is shimmying out of her jeans when Gill enters the room, sitting on the edge of the bed to do it because she still doesn't trust her balance.

"I've figured out what I can do with my retirement," Gill says, smiling as she comes through the door holding two glasses of water. 

Julie kicks her left trouser leg off and looks up. "Oh?" she asks, fingers curling around the edge of the mattress as she adjusts her position, trying to look flirtatious rather than ridiculous. 

It seems to work. Gill pauses just inside the door to let her gaze rake over Julie, taking her in from toes to face. "Yeah," she responds when her eyes meet Julie's, though her next words puncture Julie's act. "I could start by doing some science experiments on the things in your kitchen."

Sheepish, Julie laughs, and Gill approaches, extending her arm to offer Julie one of the glasses of water. Julie takes it, running with the joke like she'd never intended anything different. "There could be a new race of corn-creatures living in the saucepan. They mightn't appreciate being experimented on."

"Hand," Gill says, uncurling her ring and pinkie finger to reveal two painkillers pinned there. Julie lifts her palm and Gill tips the pills into it. "Human experimentation could be a better option than being attacked by the potato nation from the cupboard," she adds, as Julie tips her head back to swallow the pills.

"I don't have any potatoes," Julie disagrees, after downing a mouthful of water.

Gill smirks. "That's what they want you to think." Moving away, she sets her glass down on the bedside table and heads for Julie's dresser. "Mind if I help myself?" she asks.

"Go ahead," Julie answers, though she's not sure bringing Gill home is going in quite the direction she wanted to steer it. 

Gill rifles through Julie's t-shirt drawer until she finds some items she likes. Closing it, she tosses one in Julie's direction, laughing when Julie fails to respond quickly enough to catch it. It lands on Julie's knee then slips to the floor, and Gill bends down to pick it up, pressing it into Julie's hands as she takes the water glass Julie's holding. 

"Put that on," she says. "I don't trust the state of your pyjamas, wherever they are." She moves to set Julie's glass down on the opposite bedside table, and Julie stares at the t-shirt in her hand and doesn't move. This isn't going the way she wants. 

Gill is shedding her clothes. She toes her shoes off and tucks them in the corner, drops her jacket over the chair, and then she's tugging that pink top off over her head while Julie watches, revealing a lacy aubergine bra. Her jeans go next - matching knickers, Julie notes - and then the bra's coming off, Gill's chest thrust out for a moment as she reaches behind herself to unclip it, then straps sliding down over shoulders and a glimpse of those rosy nipples.

It's only a glimpse. Gill pulls the t-shirt over her head almost instantly, straightens it at her hips, then looks up at Julie, who can't help but grin at her choice. The t-shirt is pale blue, old and well-worn, with a graphic of an interlocking pair of scissors on the front. 

"Nice," Julie says, and Gill glances down at herself and laughs.

"I was just going for soft," she says, but she's still smiling when her eyes meet Julie's again. "You should put that on." She glances at the t-shirt in Julie's hands before she heads for the loo.

Julie doesn't move while Gill's gone. It's not deliberate; more just that she gets distracted by a spot of light on the wall and ends up staring at it, mind hopping on then abandoning several trains of thought about how to move this night in a direction that involves more than going straight to bed. By the time Gill emerges from the bathroom, she still hasn't thought of anything, and Gill stops short at the sight of her still in the exact same position.

"Don't you remember how to dress yourself?" she asks, amused.

Julie does, of course, and she's quite sure she can manage it. Gill's comment gives her an idea, though, so she shakes her head, watches Gill's expression turn exasperated. 

"Any more transparent and you'd be invisible," she sighs, but moves to put herself within Julie's reach anyway. Standing before Julie, Gill regards her for a few moments, trying to stare her down. Her expression is stern but her eyes are warm, and Julie doesn't give in, remains still. "Do I have to do it for you?" Gill asks, and Julie nods. 

"Right, then." Gill reaches for the hem of Julie's top. "Arms up." Julie obeys, and Gill tugs the garment off over her head, gets her down to her bra. Julie smiles, but Gill is doing remarkably little checking out, instead arching an eyebrow and asking: "This too?" When Julie nods again, Gill leans forward, and Julie enjoys the press of their bodies together as Gill reaches around her back. Before Gill can pull away, Julie strikes, catching Gill by the hips and pitching herself backward, pulling Gill with her. Gill gives a little squeak of surprise as she overbalances and they both topple onto the bed. 

She's laughing by the time they recover, sprawled on top of Julie with her elbows either side of Julie's shoulders. "What the hell, Slap?" she asks, breathless with it.

Julie grins up at her. "You weren't close enough," she whispers, hitching the hem of the t-shirt up as she slides her hands around from Gill's hips to the small of her back. "Want you," she adds, fingers slipping beneath the fabric and onto Gill's skin, trailing over the waistband of her knickers and stroking the smooth curve at the base of her spine. "Kiss me."

Gill does, fingers sliding into Julie's hair and tilting her head back, lips descending. Julie's eyes flutter closed as they meet, head spinning, feeling the heat of Gill's body and mouth against her and arching into it. The kiss is long and deep, breathing into each other, warmth suffusing Julie's whole body as her fingers slide up Gill's back to hold her close. 

When they break off, Julie opens her eyes, finds Gill smiling down at her, feels her hair being stroked. "I want you, too," Gill whispers. "But -" Julie's fingers slip beneath the waistband of her knickers " - stop, Slap." Julie's movement stills. "Not tonight," Gill says.

"Oh." Julie doesn't move but she feels herself deflate a little, some of the warmth in her blood cooling at once. It must show on her face because Gill's fingers smooth through her hair again, brush a strand back from her forehead.

"Not tonight," she says, "because we'll have plenty of time tomorrow." She smiles gently, looks deadly earnest, so Julie shakes off disappointment that suddenly feels petulant so she can listen. 

"I want us to do things right, this time," Gill says. "Not while I'm sad, not while you're pissed, not while there's any chance of miscommunication. I don't want this to be a one-time thing; I want to wake up tomorrow in bed with you, maybe start the rest of my life with you. All right?"

Julie is full of something else now, feels her fingers trembling against Gill's back. It's still heat, this feeling, but it's a different kind - something deep, slow-burning, long-lasting. "All right," she whispers, and hears its cadence in her voice. 

"Good," Gill replies, and kisses her again, then pushes herself up. "Now put that fucking t-shirt on; I'm not your mum."

Julie laughs, head still spinning, entire body reeling as Gill climbs off her and she rights herself, tossing her bra aside and reaching for the bundle of fabric, tugging it over her head as Gill crawls in beneath the covers. Julie joins her a moment later, flicks the lights out, and then they're sliding down in the dark, reaching for each other. Julie's hand finds Gill's and Gill pulls it around her, curling her back into Julie's body and threading their fingers together. 

"It's you," Julie whispers, tugging her in tight.

"It's me," Gill replies, and Julie can hear the smile in her voice.


End file.
